The Ice-cold Case Page 2

  The officer made his way across the ice to Ray and his friends.

  Ray turned to Joe. “Do something, Hardy. You know I’m no thief.”

  “Ray, they’re just going to ask you some questions,” Joe said.

  The officer took Ray by the arm.

  “C’mon, Joe. What about when I helped you find that kid who ran away, or when we caught Rob Dee stealing stuff from the gym lockers . . . ?”

  “Ray, just don’t make any trouble. I’ll do what I can,” Joe said. He didn’t think of Ray as a close friend, but despite Ray’s tough attitude, he had helped out the Hardys on a few cases.

  The officer led Ray over to the police cars.

  “Okay, Ernie, you, too,” Collig said. “Do you need to close up shop before we go?”

  “No, Stu and Neil can handle things,” Ernie said. He followed the chief across the ice.

  Frank, who was standing next to Stu and Neil, reached out his hand. “Frank Hardy. You’re Stu and Neil?”

  Stu shot Frank an angry glare.

  “Hi. I’m Neil Tuttle.”

  Neil shook Frank’s hand, but Stu just kept glaring.

  “What was all that about seeing Ray checking out the places around here?” Frank asked.

  “It’s none of your business,” Stu said coldly. He turned and walked away. Neil looked unsure for a moment but then followed his brother.

  Joe skated over to Frank. “Ray wants me to help him,” Joe said.

  “Which side of this case are you working, Mr. Kwan’s or Ray’s?” Frank asked.

  Chet had just skated over from Sarah Kwan’s party. “Mr. Kwan was the one who called the police,” Chet said. “He thought you guys were in trouble.”

  “We might have been in another few minutes,” Frank said.

  “Mr. Kwan is freaked out. He made everyone come inside until the police got here,” Chet said.

  “But we’re a half mile away from the Kwans’ house,” Joe pointed out.

  “Yeah, I mentioned that, but he said, ‘Better safe than sorry,’ ” Chet reported.

  “We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Frank said. “We just want to hang out awhile and see if we hear anything interesting.”

  “You guys are on the case already?” Chet asked.

  “Yeah, we’re just choosing sides,” Frank said.

  Chet looked confused. “What?”

  “It’s a joke,” Joe said.

  “Sure, whatever, Hardy,” Chet said, shaking his head as he skated back to the party.

  As the fishermen and the hockey players separated, Ray’s friends Vinnie and John skated over to Stu and Neil, nearly hitting them with their hockey sticks, though making it look unintentional. Frank and Joe stayed close enough to hear their exchange.

  “Keep an eye out for thin ice,” Stu said.

  “You’re going to be sorry you messed with us,” Vinnie snarled. Vinnie and John turned on the ice neatly and raced away.

  “Ernie’s grandsons sure have a way with people,” Frank said to Joe as they watched Neil and Stu go back to the bait shop.

  “Must be a family thing,” Joe said, remembering Ernie swinging his ax at Ray. “And that makes me think I’d rather not meet Vinnie’s and John’s families.”

  “You want to go check out the Anderson house?” Frank suggested.

  “I didn’t get any lunch. I’d rather stop at the Kwans’ first and see if there’s any food left,” Joe said.

  Sarah, Iola, Callie, and the others were just coming back outside when Frank and Joe reached the far end of the lake. Mr. Kwan ran outside to get the last few burgers off the grill. They were little more than charcoal.

  “Sorry, I got kind of sidetracked,” Mr. Kwan said as Frank and Joe reached the house. “Let me put fresh ones on for you.”

  “Don’t bother,” Frank said.

  “Yeah,” Joe agreed. “Don’t worry about it. We both like them well done.”

  “Thanks for calling the police,” Frank said as Mr. Kwan brought them the overcooked burgers.

  “Are you on the case?” Mr. Kwan asked.

  “Just doing some legwork,” Frank said.

  “We’re going to make a quick stopover at the Anderson place,” Joe said as he wolfed down his burger. “Then I’m going down to the station to see how the questioning turns out.”

  After finishing their lunch and thanking the Kwans, Frank and Joe went around front to get their van. They saw Phil diligently working on the snow scene. He and Chet had made a snowwoman, and now Phil was trying to make a satellite dish out of snow, twigs, and ice behind the snow television.

  “Hey, Phil, don’t forget there’s a party inside,” Joe said as he got in the van.

  “Life is not just a party. There must also be satellite television,” Phil said emphatically without looking up from his work.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier just to give them cable?” Frank asked Joe as they pulled the van out of the Kwans’ driveway.

  “Oh, I get it,” Joe replied with a blank face. “Cable instead of a satellite dish. You’re a real comedian, you know that, Frank?”

  Frank answered with a jab to his brother’s ribs.

  The Anderson house was a large A-frame with a wall of windows facing the lake. A few police officers were there, still looking for clues, Frank figured. He and Joe looked around and found their friend Officer Riley.

  “Do you have any leads yet?” Frank asked.

  “If Ernie is telling the truth and not just venting his anger at the Nelsons, we may have already solved this one,” Riley said.

  “What did Ray mean that Ernie had it in for him and his dad?” Joe asked.

  “Ernie and Ray’s dad used to be business partners,” Riley said. “The relationship didn’t end well.”

  Riley was obviously not going to elaborate, so Frank changed the subject.

  “How many houses have been hit?” Frank asked.

  “All told, nearly two dozen over the last three years,” Riley said.

  “What’s been stolen?” Frank hoped Riley wouldn’t realize he was being grilled and clam up on them.

  “Mostly silver and jewelry, watches, that kind of thing,” Riley said. “And none of the usual fencing operations got any of it. We’ve checked all the way into the city.”

  “You think they’re stashing it, then,” Frank continued.

  “Either that or traveling a good way before they sell it,” Riley said. “Do you think Ray is in on this?”

  “I hope not,” Joe said. “He can be a world-class jerk, but he did help us out on some cases. Deep down, I think he’s okay.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Riley said.

  Frank and Joe thanked Riley and then took a look around the Andersons’ yard. With the footprints of so many police officers in the snow, it was impossible to identify where the robber might have stepped.

  “Let’s walk back to Sarah’s,” Joe said. “Maybe we’ll see something new from that perspective.”

  “You know,” Joe said after they’d gotten their footing on the smooth ice, “Ray couldn’t have done it.”

  “Why not?” Frank asked.

  “Didn’t Riley say this has been going on for the last three years?” Joe asked.

  “Yeah,” Frank said.

  “Ray went to live with his mother last year in Michigan,” Joe said.

  “Good point,” Frank said. “Besides, do you think Ray would be stupid enough to antagonize everyone in the area and then rob their homes?”

  “You’d think he’d keep a low profile,” Joe said.

  “So if it isn’t Ray, who is doing it?” Frank asked.

  “I guess that’s what we’ve got to find out,” Joe said.

  When they returned to Sarah’s house, they found everyone in the huge living room gathered around a roaring fire, drinking hot chocolate. Bundled up in the center of the crowd was Phil Cohen. Phil had been out working on the snow sculpture so long his fingers were nearly frozen.

  “Who wants ice cream?” Mrs. Kwan
asked as Frank and Joe came into the living room.

  “I don’t suppose you could serve it hot,” Phil said with a groan.

  Mr. Kwan took Frank and Joe aside. “So, did you guys find out anything?” he asked.

  “Nothing definite,” Joe said.

  “The police are still looking for clues,” Frank said.

  “Leave them alone, dear,” Mrs. Kwan said, handing them each bowls filled with chocolate, butter pecan, and mocha chip ice cream. “This is a party!”

  But Joe wasn’t about to let go of the investigation for the sake of a birthday party. Instead, he drew Mrs. Kwan into the discussion.

  “What do you think about the break-ins, Mrs. Kwan? Have you seen anything?” Joe asked.

  “Every time there’s a robbery, the police ask us the same thing,” Mrs. Kwan said. “And every time, I give the same answer: we didn’t hear or see any cars pass by.”

  “And I don’t think you could get a car by my house without me knowing about it,” Mr. Kwan added. He put his ice cream down and put his arm around his wife’s shoulder.

  “Why is that?” Joe asked.

  “Because the road is so near the house on the one side. We built too close, but it was either that or we would have had to blast out a boulder.”

  “There’s so little traffic anyway,” Mrs. Kwan said. “We moved here because it’s so quiet—usually.”

  “So, are you boys going to stop this crime wave?” Mr. Kwan asked.

  The Hardys were a little taken aback. They planned to do all they could, but they didn’t want to promise the Kwans something they couldn’t deliver.

  “Well, we’ll give it our best shot,” Frank said with a faint smile.

  “Not another word, Hiromi,” said Mrs. Kwan. “We’ve already embarrassed the boys enough and kept them from the—”

  Before Mrs. Kwan could finish her sentence, there was a loud crash from outside, instantly followed by screams.

  3 Go Away!

  * * *

  They all ran outside and found shards of glass in the driveway surrounding the left side of the Hardys’ van.

  “Well, Frank, either someone’s been practicing their slap shot on our van or they didn’t like your parking job,” Joe said as he opened the car door to survey the damage.

  “Ow!” Joe yelped. He fell over a large rock with a piece of paper wrapped around it sitting in the middle of the passenger seat. “Hey, Frank,” he said to his brother. “Do you remember seeing this rock here before the window broke?”

  Frank gave his brother a good shove for acting so stupid. He bent over and picked up the rock. The paper was held on by a red rubber band, which Frank quickly removed. He unfolded the paper and read its message out loud: “ ‘Hardys, stay off the lake. You’re skating on thin ice.’ ”

  “Well, we know one thing,” Joe said, looking over Frank’s shoulder. “Whoever did this has lousy handwriting.”

  Chet looked back and forth between the broken window and the Hardy brothers. “You guys make some new friends out there?”

  “Yeah, Chet,” Joe replied sarcastically. “We were getting a little tired of your company. . . . Just kidding!”

  Fortunately, Chet was a longtime friend of the Hardys and was used to such abuse from them.

  “I can’t believe this,” Mr. Kwan said as he walked over to inspect the van. “I’m calling the police.”

  “That’s okay, Mr. Kwan,” Frank said. “We have to stop by the station anyway. We’ll report it. Meanwhile, do you have any plastic to cover this hole?”

  By the time Frank, Joe, and Chet had finished duct-taping over the window with one of Mr. Kwan’s tarps that he used in his sculpture studio, the party definitely seemed to be over.

  The Kwans offered to drive everyone else home, so Frank and Joe could go straight to the police station.

  “Let me know if you need my help,” Chet told the brothers as he got into the Kwans’ van.

  “You’re on, buddy,” Frank said.

  • • •

  Chief Collig sat at his desk, reading what looked like interrogation reports as his secretary showed the two brothers into his office. “Frank and Joe Hardy—what can I do for you boys?”

  “Someone threw this rock through the window of our van, along with this note,” Frank said. He put the rock and the note on Collig’s desk.

  Chief Collig read the note. “Any idea who did this?”

  “Well, it wasn’t Ray, since he was here. We were hoping to catch him before he left. He may be able to help us, if he recognizes the handwriting,” Frank said.

  “You’re in luck. He’s still here,” Collig said, “and will be for a while. He’s in a heap of trouble.”

  “About that trouble,” Joe said. “Ray wasn’t even in Bayport last winter. He was with his mother in Michigan. So he couldn’t have been involved in those robberies.”

  Collig nodded as if he’d heard all this before. “That was last year,” he said gruffly. He paused. “Weren’t you on the football team with Ray, Joe?”

  “Yeah,” Joe said.

  “Look, I think it’s very noble of you to help your teammate, but he’s already admitted that he broke into one of the houses.”

  Joe looked dismayed. “What?”

  “He said he and some friends went into Ari Brown’s place, and it was robbed about two weeks ago,” Collig said.

  “He admitted he was involved?” Frank asked.

  “Not exactly,” Collig explained. “He said they went in on a dare. But the fact is he admitted to breaking into the house.”

  “Can we talk to him?” Joe asked.

  “Be my guest,” Collig said, standing up.

  “Oh, and could we get a photocopy of that note?” Frank asked. “I imagine you’d like the original, but a copy may help us out.”

  “Oh, all right.” Chief Collig picked up the note and led Frank and Joe out of his office. They stopped off at a copy machine, which looked and sounded like a dying dinosaur, but the chief got a decent copy from it.

  “Thanks, Chief,” Frank remembered to say.

  The brothers followed Chief Collig to a cell in the back of the building.

  Ray was sitting on a bunk with his head in his hands.

  “You’ve got visitors, Ray,” Collig said, then turned around and walked off.

  Ray looked up and saw Frank and Joe on the other side of the steel bars. “Are you guys going to get me out of here?” he asked.

  “We’ll see what we can do . . .” Frank began.

  “But first we need to talk.” Joe finished his brother’s sentence for him.

  “Ray, someone threw a rock through our van window with a note attached,” Frank informed him, watching for any signs of whether he was surprised by the news.

  “The note warned us to stay off the lake,” Joe said.

  “That’s what that jerk Tuttle is always yelling at me,” Ray said. “Are you getting me out or what?”

  “We mentioned to Chief Collig that you weren’t in Bayport last year so you couldn’t have done those robberies,” Joe said, ignoring Ray’s question.

  “So you believe I’m innocent?” Ray asked.

  “I’m not sure I’d go so far as to call you innocent, but I’m not convinced you’re a burglar,” Joe said.

  “So what did Collig tell you?” Ray asked. He stood up and walked over to the bars that separated him from freedom.

  “He said you admitted to breaking into the Brown place,” Joe said.

  “It was a dare, that’s all. You know, raid the fridge and hang out. We just thought it would be a laugh,” Ray said.

  “A laugh?” Joe echoed.

  “I know. It sounds pretty stupid to me, too, right now,” Ray admitted.

  Collig suddenly reappeared with a set of keys jangling from a large ring.

  “Okay, Ray, you’re going home,” Collig said.

  “That’s great. Thanks, guys,” he said to Frank and Joe.

  “We can’t take credit for this,” Frank s
aid.

  “Oh, no,” Ray said, then groaned. “My dad isn’t here, is he?”

  “Nope. When I called him, he said you could rot in that cell for all he cared,” Collig said.

  From the look on Ray’s face, Frank realized that Collig wasn’t kidding.

  “We just got a call that someone broke into another house. It’s safe to say you didn’t do it, since you were here,” Collig said.

  “So, you’re letting me go?” Ray asked.

  “We may have more questions for you later. Maybe your friends here can give you a ride home,” Collig said as he unlocked the cell.

  “No problem,” Frank said. He had wanted to talk to Ray without the police around.

  When they reached the van, Ray asked if the thrown rock had hurt anyone. He looked at the broken window. “They really got you.”

  “Yeah, and we’d really like to send whoever did it a thank-you note,” Frank said.

  Ray climbed into the back of the van. “What is all this stuff?” he asked, looking at the equipment Frank and Joe kept there.

  “We never know what we’re going to need when we’re on a case,” Joe said. “It’s tools mostly and some winter gear.”

  Frank got in behind the wheel and pulled the copy of the note from his pocket. “Take a look at this, Ray. Do you recognize the handwriting?”

  Ray took the note and examined it by the light from the dashboard.

  “Can’t say I do, but I probably wouldn’t even if my best friend had written it,” Ray said.

  The night was getting colder, and the roads were becoming more treacherous. Frank and Joe kept two fifty-pound bags of cement over the back tire wells to give the van more traction in slippery conditions. But even with this added weight, Frank had to be very careful as he drove.

  “So what do you think is the story behind these robberies?” Frank asked Ray as they made their way across town.

  “How should I know?” Ray replied stiffly.

  “Ray, Chief Collig is going to pin this on you and your friends,” Frank said. “We’re trying to help you. The least you can do is cooperate with us.”

  “How could he pin it on me? I was in jail during the last robbery.”