The Case of the Psychic's Vision Read online

  “They don’t want to believe,” Colin added.

  “Well, do you blame them?” Joe said. “It’s kind of scary.”

  “I like the way Dad puts it,” Frank said. “When people ask him if he believes something, he simply says that if he can’t prove it or disprove it, then he just says so. He never says he doesn’t believe something.”

  “Your father sounds like a very smart guy,” Colin said.

  “He is. He’s a world-famous detective,” Joe said. “He used to be with the New York Police Department. Now he works for himself.”

  “I’d like to meet him sometime,” Colin said.

  Frank cocked his ear toward the front of the house. “That should be him now,” he said. “I think he’d like to meet you, too. Why don’t you call your parents and ask them if you can stay for dinner?”

  Joe laughed. “They may think we’re a bad influence, after what happened at Callie’s house,” he said. “Be sure and tell them that we’re not planning to play another practical joke on anybody.”

  “Shouldn’t you ask your mom first?” Colin said.

  “You’re here. It’s almost time for dinner,” Joe said. “She already expects you to stay.”

  “There’s a phone under Joe’s pillow,” Frank said. “He was on with Iola until late last night.”

  “Is she your girlfriend?” Colin asked.

  “Yeah. We’ve been together for a while,” Joe admitted. “She’s great. We can talk to each other about almost anything.”

  Colin sighed. “It must be nice to have somebody like that,” he said. He stood up, brushed a couple of crumbs off his pants, and reached under Joe’s pillow for the phone.

  After several rings, the answering machine came on. Colin left a message, telling his parents that he was eating dinner with the Hardy boys and that no, they weren’t planning on playing any practical jokes on anyone.

  Frank and Joe laughed at this, both feeling the lessening of tension that had been in the room when they first arrived home from school.

  “Whose are these?” Colin asked. He was pointing to some plaques on the wall and some trophies in the bookcase.

  “Well, we told you that our father was a detective,” Joe explained, “but we didn’t tell you that we had solved a few big cases ourselves.” He stood up and walked over to where Colin was standing. “We got this airplane-shaped trophy when we solved a mystery at the airport,” he said. “And we got this car-shaped trophy when we found out who was stealing all of the cars out on Shore Road.”

  “I’m impressed,” Colin said.

  “Well, I guess we all have our talents,” Frank said, now standing up himself, “but I have to tell you that I’ve never seen anyone with talents like yours.”

  “Everyone has the potential to be a psychic,” Colin said. “It just takes a little practice to develop your psychic abilities.”

  Joe and Frank stared at him.

  “You mean I could do the same things that you do?” Joe said.

  “No, I’m not saying that,” Colin said. “I’m just saying that you can develop whatever psychic ability you do have. It’s different in different people.”

  “Could you help us develop ours?” Frank asked.

  Colin nodded. “If you’re sure that’s what you want to do.”

  Before either one of the Hardy boys could respond, there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” Frank called.

  The door opened, and Fenton Hardy appeared. “Your mother said you had company,” he said.

  “Dad, this is Colin Randles,” Joe said. “He and his family just moved here.”

  Colin walked over to Mr. Hardy and reached out his right hand to shake. He suddenly withdrew it, though, as if he had gotten an electric shock—and he started trembling uncontrollably.

  “Colin!” Joe called.

  Frank grabbed Colin and pulled him to a chair. Colin was breathing so hard that Frank thought he was going to hyperventilate.

  Mr. Hardy hadn’t moved from where he was standing.

  “We’ll explain in just a minute, Dad,” Joe called from the bathroom. He was getting Colin a glass of water.

  “Explain what?” Mr. Hardy said. “Do you think we need to call an ambulance?”

  Colin suddenly groaned and opened his eyes. He looked around the room.

  “Are you all right, Colin?” Mr. Hardy asked.

  “It’s nothing. It’s nothing,” Colin said. “Something just made me dizzy.”

  “Colin, don’t do this!” Joe said. “You have to deal with it! What did you see?”

  Colin swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and turned toward Mr. Hardy. “Okay. The man you’re looking for lives in an apartment building at the corner of Jones Street and West Fourth Street in Greenwich Village in New York City. He’ll be at the Jefferson Market Library two days from today, at two o’clock in the afternoon, and he’ll have the secret documents with him. That’s when he’s supposed to give them to his contact. You can catch him then.”

  Joe and Frank Hardy had never seen such a stunned look on their father’s face.

  “What’s he talking about, Dad?” Frank finally asked.

  “One of my contacts with the government called me today. They’re looking for a spy. They needed my help,” Fenton Hardy said. “Colin just solved the mystery for me.”

  6 Kidnapped

  * * *

  A still-stunned Fenton Hardy herded all three of the boys into his study and closed the door. He told Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude that dinner was to be held up, and that they weren’t to be disturbed under any circumstances.

  Rarely did Frank and Joe see their father in such a serious mood. It was little unsettling for both of them, but then so was the revelation that he had been working on a secret case for the government that Colin Randles had just solved for him.

  “This is getting weirder and weirder,” Joe whispered to Frank, and Frank nodded his agreement.

  As the boys seated themselves in chairs in front of Mr. Hardy’s desk, Mr. Hardy made a telephone call. For several minutes he spoke in low tones, then he turned on the speaker phone.

  “I can’t tell you to whom you’re talking, but I assure you, you’d recognize the name,” Mr. Hardy said. He turned to Colin. “I want you to tell this person exactly what you told me just a few minutes ago.”

  Colin took at deep breath.

  Frank and Joe could tell that he was extremely nervous.

  “I’m . . . I’m not sure I can remember, well, exactly what I said,” Colin said. He was rubbing the palms of his hands on the legs of his pants. “When these things happen, they happen so fast, and it’s almost as if somebody else is talking for me. I’ll try.”

  “That’s all we can ask,” Fenton said.

  Colin began. When he hesitated, Frank and Joe prompted him. When Colin finished, Frank and Joe agreed with their father that Colin had repeated everything that he had first said to Mr. Hardy.

  The voice on the telephone asked Mr. Hardy to turn off the speaker, which Mr. Hardy did.

  Fenton Hardy listened to the person for several more minutes, uttered a few low agreements, then hung up.

  “Colin, there’s no way you could have known anything about this case, in the normal way,” Mr. Hardy said, “but you’ve solved it. Government agents will take over from here.” He looked at Frank and Joe. “Does this have anything to do with the questions you were asking me about psychic detectives the other night?”

  “Well, sort of, Dad,” Joe said.

  For the next few minutes, the three boys told Mr. Hardy everything that had happened over the last few days.

  Mr. Hardy listened carefully, never passing judgment. When he heard about the practical joke during the séance, he frowned, but both Frank and Joe knew that he liked Chet Morton and wouldn’t really think any less of him.

  Finally, Mr. Hardy said, “Nothing said during these last few minutes must leave this room, boys . . . agreed?”

  Frank and Joe nodded.
They were used to hearing things in confidence from their father.

  Colin nodded, too. “I understand, Mr. Hardy. I don’t like to let many people know about my psychic abilities. Very few of them understand.”

  “I’ve been involved with several criminal cases where psychics have given us the last bit of information we needed to solve the crime,” Fenton Hardy said. “I’ve found most of them don’t want publicity. They just want to help.”

  “That’s the way I feel, too, sir,” Colin said.

  Mr. Hardy stood up. “Well, I don’t know about you boys, but I’m starved. How about some dinner?”

  “Sounds great,” Joe said. “I barely had anything to eat after school.”

  After dinner, the boys went back to Joe and Frank’s room.

  “When do we start?” Joe said.

  Colin looked puzzled. “Start?”

  “Yeah! Start!” Joe reminded him. “I want to find out how psychic I am!”

  Colin shrugged and looked at his watch. “We can start now, if you want to. I don’t have any homework.” He turned to Frank. “I think I aced my speech. I was the last name on the list, so I didn’t miss giving it, and Mrs. Thompson accepted my explanation. The Hardy name really opens doors around here.”

  “I’ve got a little homework, but I can spare some time for this,” Frank said. “I’m as interested as Joe in finding out more about what psychics do.”

  Colin made himself comfortable on the floor. “Most people start with psychic readings,” he said. “Some people call it fortune-telling.”

  “That sounds like a good place to start,” Joe said. “I’d love to be able to tell fortunes.”

  “Isn’t that fake?” Frank asked.

  “Psychic readings aren’t fake,” Colin said, “but sometimes there are false psychics who do perform them.” He shrugged. “You’ve got phoneys in everything. The world of the psychic is no different.”

  “That’s true,” Joe said.

  For the next several minutes, Colin told them what they needed to do a psychic reading.

  He said they were probably receiving messages from someone when they said that a person gave off good vibes or when they talked about having a lucky hunch.

  “You’re not reading someone’s mind,” Colin explained, “you’re reading their energy.”

  Colin told them they had to relax. They couldn’t rush psychic readings. They had to allow themselves to receive the information from another person.

  Frank and Joe followed Colin’s instructions.

  Suddenly, Joe jumped up and went to the door. “What?” he yelled down the hallway.

  At that moment, Mrs. Hardy appeared. “Well, you must have read my mind, Joe, because I just remembered that I needed to tell you something.”

  Joe blinked and turned around to face a grinning Frank and Colin.

  Colin shrugged.

  “I guess I did, Mom,” Joe said. “What did you forget to tell me?”

  “They called today to tell you that the CDs you ordered are in,” Mrs. Hardy said. “They’ll only hold them for you for a week.”

  “Okay, Mom,” Joe said. “Thanks.”

  When Mrs. Hardy was gone, Joe said, “That’s amazing. I knew she was coming to our room to tell me something.”

  “It works, Joe,” Colin said. “It really does.” He looked at his watch. “I need to be going. Could I bum a ride home?”

  “Yeah—we can pick up my CDs on the way,” Joe said.

  Frank grabbed the keys to the van. After Colin went to the kitchen and thanked Mrs. Hardy for dinner, the three of them headed outside.

  “I don’t think your aunt likes me,” Colin said.

  “What did she say to you to make you think that?” Joe asked.

  “She didn’t say anything.” Colin said. “She just had a frown on her face when I was thanking your mother for dinner.”

  “She does the same thing to us, Colin. Don’t think anything about it,” Frank said. “Aunt Gertrude just has a ‘distinct’ personality, that’s all.”

  CD City was on the way to Colin’s house. Frank pulled into the parking lot, let Joe run in and get his CDs—which only took a few minutes—and then they pulled back out onto the boulevard.

  Colin was quiet all the way. He seemed to have sunk into a really dark mood.

  If all psychics are this moody, Joe thought, I don’t think I want to develop any psychic abilities I might have. I’d just as soon not know all of this stuff.

  When they reached the Randles’ house, Colin jumped out. Without looking back, he said, “Thanks, guys! I’ll see you tomorrow.” In an instant, he had disappeared into his house.

  “Do you think he’ll be all right?” Joe asked.

  Frank shrugged. “Who knows?” He backed out of the Randles’ driveway and headed home. “There’s no telling what’s really going on in his mind, Joe. And I’m not sure I really want to know.”

  “I know what you mean,” Joe said. “I know what you mean.”

  When the Hardy boys saw Colin the next morning, he seemed to be in an even darker mood than he was the night before.

  “What’s wrong, Colin?” Frank asked when they got to English class.

  “Today’s the day,” Colin whispered to Frank.

  Frank frowned his puzzlement. Colin looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention to them, and when he found no one was, he added, “I’ve been feeling it even more strongly, Frank. I know now that it’s a girl. She’s not who she thinks she is.”

  “I know you said that, Colin, but I can’t think of anyone it might be,” Frank said. “I know everybody in this school—well, maybe not everyone all that well, because there are a bunch of new kids this year—but I really do think they are who they say they are.”

  “That’s the point, Frank,” Colin explained. “She thinks she knows who she is, but she doesn’t.”

  This conversation is getting too weird, Frank decided. He wanted to be friends with Colin, but already some of the other guys were keeping their distance. He didn’t think that was fair, but he could certainly understand.

  Frank was glad when Ms. Long said that today she was just going to talk to them about British poets. He didn’t particularly like British poets, but at least he wouldn’t have to do group work with Colin. Frankly, he wasn’t sure Colin would be able to do any group work. Frank wished that whatever was bothering Colin would surface fully, so that the problem could be solved.

  It didn’t take long.

  As they headed out of English class, Colin bumped into Melanie Johnson.

  “It’s you!” Colin cried. “It’s you!”

  Melanie stood, mouth open, staring at Colin.

  All of the students in the vicinity stopped to stare, too. Most of them knew just enough about Colin to think that he was a little bit “off,” and now he was showing them that they were right.

  Frank grabbed Colin by the arm and tried to pull him away from the gathering crowd.

  “No, Frank, no!” Colin said. “She’s not who she thinks she is!”

  Melanie had had enough time to recover and was shaking her head in disbelief.

  Frank didn’t know Melanie Johnson well, but he knew a lot about her. While he didn’t dislike her, he didn’t particularly like her, either. Her family was one of the wealthiest in Bayport. If Melanie had wanted to, she could have attended boarding school in Europe, but she preferred to stay in Bayport for high school during the week, and party in New York City on the weekends.

  “Who is this creep, Frank?” Melanie said. “A friend of yours?”

  Colin was staring at Melanie. “I know what I’m talking about. You’re not totally who you think you are!”

  “Oh, really?” Melanie said. “Well, who am I?”

  “You’re—”

  “What’s going on here?”

  Oh, great! Frank thought.

  Mr. Brooks, one of the assistant principals, had made his way through the crowd. When he saw Colin, he rolled his eyes. “Ar
e you having a problem here, Mr. Randles?”

  “He’s not having a problem, Mr. Brooks,” Frank said. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

  “This creep was insulting me, Mr. Brooks,” Melanie said. “I think I need to call my father and report him.”

  Frank saw Mr. Brooks blanch. Not only did the Johnson family give thousands to the Bayport public schools, but Mr. Johnson was on the school board. It wouldn’t do to have him mad about anything.

  “There’s no need to do that, Melanie,” Mr. Brooks said. “I can take care of this.”

  “Well, just see that you do,” Melanie said. She tossed her long blond hair and headed down the hall, followed by her entourage of hangers-on.

  Joe had now joined Frank. “What was that all about?” he said under his breath.

  Frank could only roll his eyes and shake his head.

  Mr. Brooks was staring at Colin. Frank was sure that the assistant principal wanted to expel Colin right then and there.

  “I want you in my office right now, Colin Randles,” Mr. Brooks said. Turning to Frank and Joe, he added, “And I think the Hardy boys need to come too.”

  The three of them followed Mr. Brooks down the hall toward the administrative office complex. Several students gawked at them, knowing full well what was to come.

  As they stepped into Mr. Brooks’s outer office, Mr. Brooks looked over at his secretary and said, “I don’t want to be disturbed.”

  Joe felt like telling him that he was already disturbed enough, but he knew that wouldn’t be wise. Mr. Brooks was trying to earn a reputation as a hard-nosed administrator, and he was doing a really good job of it so far.

  Inside his office, Mr. Brooks said, “Sit.”

  There were only two chairs in front of his desk, so Frank remained standing.

  Mr. Brooks took a deep breath, released it, looked straight at Colin and said, “I want to know why you were harassing Melanie Johnson.”

  Colin returned his look. “I wasn’t harassing her. I was trying to tell her something.”

  “What were you trying to tell her?” Mr. Brooks demanded.

  Colin leaned closer to Mr. Brooks. “I was trying to tell her that she was kidnapped when she was two years old!”