Diplomatic Deceit Page 3

  As they rode the escalator down to the platform, lights set into the concrete began to flash. "Hey, we're in luck," Frank said. "There's a train on the way."

  They began to run down the escalator. The train still hadn't reached the station when they reached the platform.

  Callie moved to the edge of the platform, peering down the tunnel to watch for moving lights.

  Joe saw a thin man in sunglasses, tight black jeans, and a skimpy, European-cut shirt walk up behind her. As he came up to Callie, he didn't step around her. Instead, he purposely bumped into her, sending her staggering toward the edge of the platform.

  "Callie!" Frank yelled, whipping around to grab his girlfriend's arm before she fell onto the tracks.

  The thin guy sprinted away, cutting in and out of the crowd waiting on the platform.

  "This one isn't getting away," Joe muttered to himself grimly as he took off after the guy along the platform.

  His quarry raced ahead, but Joe was the Bayport football team's best broken-field runner. He closed in quickly.

  The guy darted to the edge of the platform, trying to wriggle through the heart of the crowd to lose Joe.

  It didn't work. In another minute Joe stretched out an arm and caught him by the shoulder.

  "Don't be shy, buddy," Joe said. "Turn around. We have to go back and you can apologize to our friend. Then maybe you might explain why you almost knocked her onto the tracks."

  The man did turn around, and Joe gawked. He knew him! Same sunglasses, same dark hair, and a black T-shirt showed at the neck of his European-cut shirt. This was the same person who'd snatched Callie's purse! The man's hand came out of his pocket, clenched in a fist. Joe moved, ready to block a blow, but this guy wasn't throwing a punch. His hand opened about a foot from Joe's face, releasing a cloud of reddish powder.

  Joe blinked in surprise - until the powder hit his face. He began coughing and sneezing as the orangy red particles got into his nose and throat. His eyes hurt the worst. They burned as if someone had thrown acid in them.

  Suddenly blinded, Joe recoiled. His antagonist gave him a vicious shove, and Joe staggered backward, his arms flailing in large windmill patterns. His right foot stepped back and found only air under it.

  He was going over the edge of the platform - just as the train was coming in!

  Chapter 5

  As he fell off the platform, Joe heard and felt a rumbling sound. The train was coming in! He landed hard in the track area and lay stunned for a moment, the air knocked out of him.

  He had no time to stay there and catch his breath. He forced his tearing eyes open and got a blurry view of the track bed in front of him. All he could see was a pair of oncoming headlights. The train was nearly on top of him, with no time or space to brake, if Joe tried leaping for the edge of the platform, the train would probably hit him in midair. There was no way he could outrun it.

  His thoughts fast-forwarded. If he couldn't outrun or go over the onrushing train, there was only one way to avoid being squashed like a bug. That was to go under it.

  Joe lay in the center of the track bed, pressing his body flat between the rails. He was just in time. The carriages swooped over him with a swoosh of cold air. Joe pressed his face to the track bed. His entire body shook as the train screeched to a stop. A chill ran along his spine - partly from the breeze made by the stopping cars, but mostly from terror.

  Wiggling his way to the closest opening between cars, Joe finally managed to scramble back onto the platform.

  Callie and Frank came rushing up. "Joe! Joe! Are you okay?" Callie shouted.

  "Just great," Joe said, rubbing a bruised shoulder. "The guy who almost nailed you had some nastiness left over. So he gave it to me - right down to the rails. Believe it or not, he blinded me with a handful of cayenne pepper." Joe blinked his still-bleary eyes. "Where did he go?"

  "He disappeared into the crowd when you fell." Frank shook his head. "I was with Callie - and too faraway."

  "I'm sorry, Joe," Callie said. The train began to pull out of the station.

  Joe laughed as he watched it disappear into the nearest tunnel. They had missed their train after all that. "I suggest a vote," he said. "Those in favor of a cab back to the hotel raise their hands."

  His hand and Callie's immediately shot into the air. Frank stared after the train for a second, thinking. Then in a distracted way he raised his hand as well.

  ***

  They spent a gloomy evening in Callie's room, eating a room-service meal. Callie hardly touched her food. She just sat on the couch, looking blue. Frank sat beside her and held her hand. "You okay?"

  Callie shrugged. "You know, I've been looking forward to this trip for weeks. It was all going to be perfect, like a dream, meeting a friend I'd never seen before." She shook her head. "Instead it's been a nightmare. Three times today, something awful has happened - or nearly happened - to me."

  Joe laughed. "So what do you think, Callie? Is this a plot against you?" He pretended to pull out a notebook. "Tell us, Miss Shaw, do you have any enemies in the Washington area?" Then he turned to Frank. "Maybe we should round up the usual suspects."

  "That's not funny, Joe," Frank said.

  Callie took her hand out of his. "I got both you guys in trouble, and Joe nearly got killed." She sighed. "And let's face it, Madeleine Berot hasn't turned out to be the perfect friend."

  "She ought to be arrested for false advertising, sending you a picture that made her look like a knockout," Joe complained. "But she'd probably get out of it by claiming diplomatic immunity."

  Callie refused to be cheered up by Joe's joking around. "Guys, I'm thinking about cutting this vacation short. Maybe we can get a flight home tomorrow."

  "Bayport's beginning to look better and better," Joe admitted. Before he could say anything more, the phone rang.

  Callie picked up the receiver. "Yes?" she said, then her face froze. "Oh, hello, Maddy. No, I wasn't asleep. I was sitting here with the guys."

  She beckoned the Hardys closer, holding up the phone so they could hear Madeleine's voice.

  "My father was furious over what happened," Maddy said. "I thought he was going to - what do you call it - ground me. I'll probably have to stay around the house tomorrow and get him calmed down. But what are you doing tomorrow night?"

  Callie stared at the receiver, speechless.

  Maddy's voice rushed on. "I know you should be angry at me for that stupid joke. But I didn't mean for it to turn out the way it did. I was going to tell you to watch your pockets, then go back and pay for the scarf. Instead, that crazy woman came out and started making accusations."

  "You still might have explained," Callie said stiffly.

  "I should have," Maddy agreed, her voice contrite. "Things just moved so quickly - and those women were all ready to believe the worst about us. It is all my fault, and I'm very, very sorry."

  The French girl's voice brightened. "Anyway, I want to make up for all of it. There's a new club that's opened not far from your hotel - the Quarter. It's supposed to be really hot. I hear that all the kids from diplomatic families hang out there."

  Now Madeleine's voice grew pleading. "Would you, Joe, and Frank like to go there tomorrow night? It will be my treat."

  Callie looked as if Maddy had just invited her out for a mud fight. "I don't know," she began hesitantly.

  Apparently, Frank did. He tapped Callie's shoulder to get her attention, vigorously nodding his head up and down.

  Joe was surprised by his brother's enthusiasm. Back at the police station, Joe had seen Frank's face when he realized that Maddy was responsible for Callie's trouble. Joe thought Frank had been ready to unscrew Maddy's head from her neck - without tools. Now he wanted to make a date for all of them to go out with her.

  Joe was about to make a joke about it until he caught the serious expression on his brother's face. Frank seemed to have more than dancing on his mind. Unless Joe was badly mistaken, his brother had a case to think about.

/>   "Okay," Callie said, scribbling down the address of the club. "The Quarter, at eight-thirty. See you then."

  Callie hung up the phone, staring at Frank. "Lieutenant Grant said to stay away from Maddy - how come you want to go dancing with her?"

  "Call it a hunch," Frank said.

  Joe was startled and stared at his brother. He was the one with hunches in this investigating team.

  "Somebody seems to be going out of his - or her - way to make our visit to Washington as unpleasant as possible," Frank said. "Somehow we may have wandered into someone's way. And that someone may be up to something big."

  Now Callie was staring at Frank, too. "I don't think I'm ready to buy a conspiracy theory to ruin our vacation," she objected.

  "Frank may not be as crazy as you think," Joe suddenly said. "I didn't mention it before, but I think the guy who tried to push you on the tracks was the same one who stole your purse."

  Frank turned to him, eyes blazing. "Are you sure?"

  Joe shrugged. "If I was, I wouldn't have said, "I think.' He had the same shades on, and under his shirt was a black T-shirt."

  "So we have a firm maybe." Frank looked over at Callie. "But you may have had a good idea before. You know, about heading back to Bayport, while we - "

  "While you guys look into things? No way, François," Callie said emphatically. "Either we all stay and check this out, or we all go."

  Frank and Joe exchanged a quick glance and a shrug. They knew they'd get nowhere when Callie used that tone of voice.

  Joe yawned and stretched. "It's been a long day. I'm going to hit the sack." He headed for the door, then stopped. "I'll expect to see you soon - after you've said good night." He headed for his room, grinning because he'd been able to make both Frank and Callie blush.

  ***

  The next morning at breakfast nobody mentioned the conspiracy theory. Frank, Joe, and Callie decided to act like typical tourists and explore the two-mile long Washington Mall, with all its famous museums.

  They stopped moving back and forth on the gravel paths long enough to gaze at the red sandstone walls of the Smithsonian Castle. "It's so weird. It looks like somebody dropped a huge castle right in the middle of Washington," Callie said. "What do they keep in it, the National Armor Collection?"

  "It used to be a museum, but now it's full of offices and things like that," Frank said, consulting his guidebook. "The building next door has all sorts of great stuff, though."

  "Great stuff" was just what they found next door in the Arts and Industries Building. The sprightly, bright-colored brick building contained everything from Indian totem poles to an old-fashioned train locomotive.

  "That was pretty cool," Joe said as they walked back out into the sunshine forty-five minutes later.

  "There's a modern art museum nearby," Callie said. "Want to check it out?"

  Joe stared at the round bulk of the Hirshhorn Museum. "Looks like a giant concrete pillbox," he said.

  "It's more like a doughnut," Frank said, his nose back in the guidebook.

  They explored three floors of modern art, and enjoyed a great view of the Mall from the museum's balcony room.

  "Going to become a painter now, Joe?" Callie teased as they went back.

  "Only if Dad catches up with me and makes me do the garage," Joe said.

  "An awful fate." Frank laughed. "Tell you what - you choose the next museum."

  "I think we've seen enough art for a while. How about animals?"

  They trudged across the central grassy space of the Mall to the Natural History Museum. "Nice effect," Frank said as they stepped through the entrance to find themselves confronted with a gigantic stuffed elephant.

  "Your turn," Callie said to Frank after they toured that museum for an hour.

  "I bet High-tech Hardy picks something with machines," Joe said.

  "You read my mind," Frank told him with a grin. "How about the National Air and Space Museum?"

  Back across the Mall again, they headed for a huge glass, marble, and steel building. The first airplane from 1903 and the first American space capsule to orbit the earth were inside. Not only that, there were hundreds of other fascinating pieces of flight and space technology.

  They started into the museum cafeteria for a late lunch at two-thirty. "So what do you think?" Frank asked.

  "I just wish we could take longer in each museum. We barely skimmed the surface of each of them," Callie complained.

  Joe, however, didn't answer. He threw a puzzled glance over his shoulder.

  "What's the problem, Joe?" Callie asked.

  For an answer Joe threw an arm around Frank and Callie and turned them around. He headed for the escalators. "Don't all look at once, but there's a guy behind us."

  "Dark suit, straw hat?" Frank said, pretending to kid with Callie so he could steal a peek.

  "That's the one. Have you seen him before?"

  Callie angled for a quick look, then shook her head. "I've never seen him before."

  "Well, I have," Joe said grimly. "We've been zipping back and forth between these museums at random. This guy has popped up at the last three places we've visited."

  "He likes our taste in museums?" Callie tried to sound light about it, but she didn't succeed.

  Joe picked up the pace. "Let's face it, guys," he said. "We're being followed."

  Chapter 6

  "Let's get out of here." Frank kept up the cheerful act by smiling, but his voice came out tight and strained. He steered them quickly through a couple of exhibits at the museum, not wanting to warn their shadow that he'd been spotted.

  "What do we do now?" Callie asked.

  "If we were alone, I'd suggest leading the guy tailing us to a quiet corner where we could ask him what he's doing," Joe answered Callie. "But the problem is, we're not alone - "

  "Now wait a minute," Callie burst out. "We've been on enough cases together that you should know I can carry my weight."

  "Let's quit arguing and just lose this clown." Frank felt his temper rising because of the squabbling.

  They had a job to do now. Maybe later, when they had a better shot at their tail, they could confront him. But this wasn't the time.

  "How do we lose him?" Callie asked.

  "Just look out there." Joe nodded toward the mass of tourists on the Mall. "Frank and I have lost tails in smaller crowds than that."

  Frank led the way out of the museum, using the huge plate-glass windows around them as mirrors to check on their tail.

  The man following them was hardly a character who blended into the crowd. He was a short, heavy set man wearing a dark suit, no tie, dark glasses, and a straw hat. He had at least a day's growth of beard on his round face. He was vaguely foreign looking, but he didn't look like a tourist. He looked like a well-dressed slob.

  Well, they'd find out how sloppy he was in a minute. Once out of the museum Frank led his brother and Callie into a gap in the crowd. A mob of people soon filed in behind them, cutting them off from Shorty, as Frank had nicknamed their pursuer. He was a good tail, but following the Hardys and Callie now would be like swimming against the current.

  Frank grinned as the man fell behind them. "That was simple enough," he said.

  "Not as simple as you think." Joe jerked his head over his left shoulder.

  Frank checked and spotted another man keeping pace with them.

  This follower was tall and thin, with long, greasy black hair. His skinny frame was only emphasized by the loud Hawaiian shirt he wore. Three of him could have fit inside its billows. This guy, too, wore sunglasses. He was too far away for Frank to make out his face clearly, but he did resemble the purse snatcher and the guy at the Metro. Of course, it might just be that he looked like the other guy - a young, greasy punk.

  Frank could tell his brother was thinking the same thoughts. All Joe said was, "He picked us up as soon as we left the museum."

  "Great," Frank muttered. "Now we've got to peel this guy off, too. It won't be as easy. He's got t
o be suspicious."

  Frank led the way, following one of the gravel paths. "There's a Metro station about two and a half blocks away, near the National Archives," he said. "Maybe we can jog down there and pull the same trick the purse snatcher pulled on us."

  It could have been a good plan, but it didn't work. They hadn't gotten even halfway across the Mall when Frank picked up yet another man cutting across the grass to move in ahead of them. Unlike Shorty and Mr. Hawaii, as he decided to call the guy in the loud shirt, this follower looked dangerous.

  He was tall and stocky, built like a bull, with a head smaller than it should have been. He wore a garish sport coat and tight pants, and both appeared to be foreign cut. He was also wearing sunglasses.

  Using the regulation sunglasses, Frank made out a big, puffy nose like a potato, sagging cheeks, and an oversize, jutting chin. The guy's yellowish, unhealthy-looking face was covered with pockmarks.

  Joe caught sight of the new player in this scary game of tag. "That guy could be on a poster for the War Against Zits," he joked.

  "Looks like Old Ugly's been sent in to cut us off," Frank said, changing course.

  They abruptly turned and headed back the way they had come. "There's another Metro station beyond the Air and Space Museum - a big one, with lots of trains going through."

  They could just see the two guys they'd left behind circling around to cut them off. And just then Frank thought he saw someone else in sunglasses moving their way.

  "What do we do now?" Callie wanted to know. "These guys obviously know that we've seen them. They're not going to let us ditch them."

  It was a ridiculous situation, Frank thought. Here they were, in one of the most heavily visited areas of the nation's capital, surrounded by tourists, being tailed by three or four men. The afternoon sun shone brightly down on the open green space, reflecting off the limestone, marble, glass, and steel fronts of the distinguished museums and offices that lined the Mall. It was crazy that this should be happening there in bright daylight.

  Frank felt as if he were wearing a target on his head. He had been afraid that their followers would catch up to them in an isolated spot. Now, from the way these guys were moving in and cutting off every escape route, they could be planning to pull something right in the middle of the crowd.