The Borgia Dagger Read online

  Tessa's face turned white. "By someone who knew I took morning swims." She swallowed and steadied herself against a pool chair, her arms shaking. "I — I can't believe this. " y would anyone want to do this to me?" "Well, we don't know that, Tessa. But we think Squinder may be a major player here." Suddenly Tessa grabbed Frank's hand. "you all right?" she said. "You didn't get a shock or anything, did you?"

  What about me? Joe thought. I'm the one who jumped in.

  "Fortunately, no," Frank said. "Even though it was plugged into that outlet." He pointed the socket by the side of the pool.

  "Aren't you lucky!" Tessa exclaimed with a sigh of relief. "That hasn't worked in, yes, Thank goodness my dad never had it fixed!"

  "I think we'd better take a rain check on the swim," said Frank. "We've got to start tailing Squinder."

  Tessa shook her head. "I just can't believe it. I know he hates me, but he'd never do anything like this."

  "Maybe you'd like to come with us and confront him."

  "No way! I don't want to go near him anymore."

  "In that case," Joe said, climbing out of the pool, "why don't I stay here to guard Tessa while you go, Frank?"

  "Yeah, good idea, Joe," Frank said. "In fact, I think I'll call Callie. She can help me follow Squinder."

  Joe disappeared into the changing room as Frank went to the cottage to call Callie. After she agreed to meet him at Squinder's house, he reminded her of the address, and he threw on his clothes and jogged out to the driveway.

  "So long, Tessa!" Frank yelled as he jumped into the van.

  "Oh! Just a minute!" she called out. Tessa ran toward Frank with her arms outstretched. Frank looked out the window, and she gave him a loud kiss on the cheek.

  "I just wanted to thank you for caring about so much. Good luck." With that, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Frank sighed with relief as she let go. Then he was aware of a car pulling up behind him. He turned to look. A feeling of dread washed over him when the car pulled up beside him. Staring at him through the passenger window, an angry Harley Welles. "Um, morning, Harley," Frank said. "Sure is a hot one, huh?"

  With a wave of his hand, he sped down the driveway.

  Squinder lived in a section of Bayport only four blocks from Cliffside Heights, but it seemed light-years away. Old two-family houses stood side by sIde with run-down apartment buildings. Tiny old lawns had become nothing but - dirt with gray patches of weeds. Except for the squeals of children and the barking of stray dogs, everything as silent and still in the hot summer air. On arches and in open windows, people stared into the distance, lazily fanning themselves. As Frank rove by, they gave him hard unseeing looks.

  He made a right up Lakeview Avenue, looked for number 94. Up the street about half a block was a row of attached houses. Callie's was parked in front of the last one. As Frank approached, Callie jumped out of her car, waving to him.

  He parked his car and hopped out. "What took you so long?" she said. "I don't like waiting.

  "I had a longer drive than you," Frank answered.

  "How's Tessa?" Callie asked, raising an eye brow.

  "I'm sure she's in her glory right now. She's got both Harley and Joe fighting for her attention."

  "Good! That leaves you and me to bust this case wide open!" She grabbed Frank's hand and pulled him toward the house marked 94.

  "Hey, just a minute. You have to promise you won't go sneaking off on your own again just to show us up."

  Callie put an innocent look on her face. "Me, I wouldn't dream of it! Scout's honor!" She raised three fingers.

  "Okay, partner, let's go."

  Ninety-four Lakeview Avenue was a small brown house in dire need of a paint job. Just below the roof, some of the siding had fallen of A battered cyclone fence which had enclosed the tiny fron yard, which hadn't seen grass in years.

  Hanging on the fence was a rusted metal sign. Frank squatted down next to it.

  "Can you read it?" asked Callie as she pushed open the front gate.

  "Not really. It's all covered with graffiti. No, wait a second, I can make out — "

  "Never mind, Frank. Look, there's a note taped to Squinder's door!"

  "Bo — ware — No, that's beware—of — " "Beware of what?" asked Callie, halfway to the front door.

  "D - dog! Dog! Look out, Callie!" Callie froze as she heard a deep growling and a jingling sound. Before she could react, a huge black animal came barreling around the house.

  Thinking fast, Frank picked up a stick from the ground. He ran through the gate and stopped in front of Callie, holding the stick high over his head.

  "Don't even try it!" Frank shouted. The dog stopped short, baring its huge white teeth.

  Frank slowly approached the dog, threatening it with the stick. The dog barked furiously as it backed away.

  "Go ahead, Callie! I'll hold him off while you try the front door!" "Are you sure?"

  "No problem! I've got him in control!" Frank hoped he was telling the truth.

  Timidly, Callie walked toward the door. As she moved, though, the dog lunged.

  Whack! Frank slammed the stick down in the dog's path. The dog backed off, and Frank lifted the stick into the air again. The dog's eyes followed the stick, and it braced itself as if to run.

  This is interesting, Frank thought. He began waving the stick slowly in the air. The dog's tail began to wag. Then Frank jerked the stick suddenly to one side, and the dog practically leapt off the ground in the same direction. '.

  "Careful, Frank!" Callie called to him. "It might be part Doberman, or German shepherd — "

  "Or retriever!" Frank shouted. He flung the branch clear across the street. Like a shot, the dog darted across after it.

  Frank ran to the gate and slammed it shut. He turned to Callie and wiped his hands. "Luckily, that dog is all teeth and no brains!"

  Together, Frank and Callie read the scrawled handwriting on the yellow sheet taped to the door:

  Dear Simon,

  Am at mall, fourth floor. There may actually be a shooting today. See you at 6.

  T. G.

  "This guy is stupider than I thought," Frank said. "How could he leave a more obvious clue?"

  "Come on! Let's catch him before he kills somebody!" Callie raced to the front gate, only to stop short.'

  Waiting on the other side of the gate, the branch clenched between its teeth, was the black dog. "Oh, why don't you go first, Frank? It seems to like you more," Callie suggested. Frank opened the gate and let the dog in. Quickly Callie scooted out to her car. Then Frank pulled the branch from the dog's mouth and tossed it up to the front door of the house. As the dog tore away, Frank shut the gate and jumped into the van.

  Callie followed Frank to the Bayport Mall. They parked in the indoor lot and ran toward the mall elevator, just as the door was about to close on a tightly packed group of people.

  "Excuse us!" Frank said as he pulled open the doors. He and Callie jammed inside, drawing a earful of dirty looks.

  "Four, please," Callie said pleasantly. A skinny, sour-faced man grumbled and pushed four.

  The trip to the top seemed to take forever. On each floor, the elevator stopped to let off someone from the back.

  Frank and Callie leaned forward as the doors finally opened on the fourth floor. But a bearded man held out his hand, preventing them from getting off the elevator.

  At the same time two gunshots rang out. Behind the bearded man, a man in a dark blue suit was running as if his life depended on it.

  Chasing after him, with an automatic pistol, was Edwin Squinder.

  Chapter 11

  "Stop him!" Callie screamed. She lunged forward.

  "No, Callie! He's got a gun!" Frank yelled. Ignoring Frank, and pushing aside the bearded man, Callie ran straight for Squinder. Shoppers screamed and hit the floor as Squinder ran past them. His face was twisted with grim determination, his eyes focused on the man in the suit. He didn't even see Callie as she stuck out her foot in his path.

&nb
sp; "Wh - o - o - oa!" Squinder let out a helpless yelp as he stumbled against Callie's foot. He tumbled onto the floor, and his gun went flying into the air. Huddled against the store windows, the shoppers gasped in horror.

  "Cut!" a voice rang out. "Who's the girl?" "I don't know, Jerry!" the bearded man by the elevator said. "She ran right past me!" Callie looked around. Bright white lights shone down on her from all corners of the mall. Sm along the floor were thick electrical cords, and groups of people laughed at her from behind TV cameras. One of them screamed out, "I think we should keep it, Jerry! She's great!"

  "Okay, break!" the first voice said impatiently. "Clear the area, will you? We'll shoot again at ten."

  Murmuring and snickering, the shoppers got up from the floor and walked over to a table full of snacks and soft drinks.

  Callie gulped. Her face turned red as the bearded man approached her. "Okay, kid, you just broke up our scene and made me look like a fool. When are you people going to realize this is no way to get yourself on TV?"

  "Sorry, sir, but I thought — I thought — "

  "Never mind! Just don't let me see you after the break, okay?"

  As the bearded man stormed off, Callie turne to Frank at her side. He patted her shoulder! "Anyone could have made the same mistake Callie. If you hadn't reacted so quickly, I would have been the one to disrupt the shooting."

  At once they became aware of Squinder standing behind them. "Still you hound me!" he said his voice edged with fury.

  Frank turned around calmly and said, "It was a mistake, Mr. Squinder. You see — "

  "I see plainly enough!" Squinder said between clenched teeth. "First of all, it's Grant around here — Tyrone Grant. But revealing my real name is part of it, I'm sure. Part of your master plan to ruin my career!"

  "I wouldn't throw accusations around if I were you, Squinder," Frank said. "Not before we find out why you conspired to kill Tessa Carpenter at her party the other night!"

  At that, Squinder's eyes bulged open. He clutched his chest with one hand and staggered back. "You vile, evil juvenile delinquent! How dare you accuse me — "

  "After all, who did we find lurking around the side of the mansion with a revolver after the lights went out? Lurking near the pathway that leads to the circuit breakers in the basement, I might add!"

  "Circuit breaker? What?" "Not to mention finding your little silver-plated revolver in the woods of the Cliffside Country Club yesterday, just after Tessa was shot at!" "Young man, you wound me to the quick! If my professional pride weren't at stake, I'd — I'd ive you a sound thrashing! As for the country club, I was here all day — yes, I know it was Sunday, but they had to make up for a rainy day—waiting for a turn to play my meager role." He grabbed a sheet of paper from a nearby table. "Here, for your information, is yesterday's attendance sheet."

  Frank read, "Grant, Tyrone. In: 7:30 a.m. Out: 6:35 p.m."

  "I don't know why I should even dignify your other complaint, but I most certainly was not in the Carpenter mansion on the night of that depraved party!"

  "You just happened to stop by that night, right?. And despite all the people around, you thought you might get away with sneaking into the servants' cottage for your gun—'

  "A loud party would be the best cover for my entry into that cottage, sir."

  "Five minutes, everybody! Five minutes!" a voice called out.

  Squinder looked at his watch and groaned! "I'm wasting much, too much time with you two. Now will you please excuse me? You've already destroyed an otherwise marvelous day - "

  Without waiting for an answer, Squinder walked toward the refreshment table.-

  "I still don't trust him," Frank said. "Frank, let's get out of here," Callie replied "I don't think Squinder's about to give us any more information."

  The elevator door whooshed open behind them, and they stepped inside. This time they were all alone.

  "Okay," Frank said. "Here's the plan. I need to follow up some other leads today, but I think someone had better keep an eye on Squinder. Would you do that?" Callie nodded eagerly.

  "Keep track of every thing — phone calls, meetings, any strange behavior. Follow him to his house. But make sure he doesn't recognize you."

  "How can I do that?"

  The elevator opened on the parking lot. Frank went to the van and opened the sliding door. He looked both ways, then lifted up a floor panel. Underneath was a hold, jam-packed with equipment. He pushed aside a small camera, a laptop computer, a box of diskettes containing a crime data base, a cellular mobile phone, and some Magnetic metal disguise panels for the van.

  "Ah, here it is," he said. He opened a box and filled out a pale green uniform.

  "Here's a worker's coverall. It'll be big, but if you put it on and cover your head with this," — he pulled out a beat-up baseball cap — "I think you'll be all right. You can collect papers and trash." He gave her a heavy-duty plastic bag. "I've always loved high fashion," Callie said. She took the clothes and walked toward a nearby women's room. "Wait here while I change." When Callie emerged from the women's room, the sleeves and legs of the uniform rolled up nice, Frank had to stifle a laugh. "You'd better vatch out," he said. "The TV director may hire you for comic relief."

  "Just what I need, encouragement!" Callie said. She tossed Frank her bundle of clothes and headed for the elevator.

  Frank drove out of the lot, in the direction of Bayport Museum. At the top of Cobb's hill in the center of town, he stopped for a red light. His mind wouldn't stop racing. Now that Callie was taking care of Squinder, he began to think about Ruppenthal. There were too many loose ends — there had to be a way to get him to answer questions.

  He was almost too involved to see a familia car parked just beyond the top of the hill. A fier red Lamborghini.

  Frank pulled up behind it, just as someone came out of a nearby convenience store, carrying a huge stack of newspapers.

  Thump. The newspapers were dropped by the side of the car, revealing Harley.

  Frank gave a couple of taps on his horn and climbed out of the van. "Hi!"

  Harley looked at him without expression. "Was driving by and saw Tessa's car," Frank continued. "I guess it's fixed!"

  "Yes, they fixed it Saturday actually. Surprisingly it needed very little work. She wanted to go out and get it herself, but her 'bodyguard' though! she should stay in." Harley sneered at the worij bodyguard.

  "That's an awfully quick body shop!"

  "The best. You get what you pay for, you know."

  "What's with all these newspapers?" "What's with all these questions? Tessa's on the front page again today, so she wanted afew things, all right?" Harley opened the car door and tossed the keys on the dashboard.

  Frank chuckled and tried to make a joke. Wow, she's demanding. I guess she wants one car every room in the house, huh?" Harley stood up and came face to face with Frank. "Well, you don't seem to mind it when she demands your attention." "Hey, I was just kidding, Harley. Here, let me help you with the newspapers." Frank leaned down and began to load papers into the car. "Get your head out of Tessa's car," Harley snapped. "I don't need your help."

  "Easy, Harley, I didn't mean anything — " "That does it! I've had enough of you." He gave Frank a push — a push that normally would have only rocked him back on his heels. But trussed up against the Lamborghini, he lost his glance and fell into the front seat. Harley dove in after him, fists flying. Frank tried to swing back, but there was no room to Maneuver between the dashboard and the backs if the bucket seats. He grabbed Harley's arms and thrust him backward against the steering wheel. The car horn squawked as Harley's back hit the edge of the wheel. His dark eyes blazing, Harley tried to pull Frank up and jam him against the opposite door.

  But Frank yanked an arm loose and put a headlock around Harley. Trying to squirm free, Harley jammed his knee against the emergency brake. With a click, the brake released.

  As Frank and Harley fought inside, they were too busy to notice that the car was beginnin
g to roll down the hill. Too busy to notice it was heading straight for gas tanker stopped at a red light below!

  Chapter 12

  Struggling to break free, Harley fell off the front seat onto the floor. It was in that moment that Frank finally noticed the tanker.

  "What the — we're moving!" Taking advantage of the distraction, Harley grabbed at Frank's collar.

  "Get over it quick, buddy," Frank said as he renched himself free of Harley, "we're in big trouble."

  Heooonk! Heooonk! By now the truck driver was blowing his horn, trying desperately to avoid the accident he saw coming in his rear-view mirror.

  The front of the Lamborghini was a tangle of hands and legs. There was no chance Frank could get up and put on the foot brake in time. The tanker loomed larger and larger through the windshield. Frank yanked up on the emergency brake. SCCCRRREEEEEEK! The car jerked violently, throwing Harley and Frank into the dashboard. But then it continued rolling, as if nothing had happened.

  "We burned out the hand brake!" Frank said. The tanker was now fifteen feet away, still stuck! at the red light. Both of its doors flew open. Screaming, the driver and his partner ran for the sidewalk.

  There was only one chance. Frank to reach behind him and grabbed the steering wheel. He pushed hard to the left.

  The wheel moved a few inches, then clicke and stopped. The car swerved only slightly.

  "It locks when there's no key in the ignition!" Harley shouted, sweat pouring from his brow. He reached down on the floor for the brake.

  But it was too late for the brake. Frank felt his hair starting to stand on end as the car sped toward the tanker's left side. Then he remembered the keys on the dashboard. He grabbed them as Harley reached for the door handle. "Get off me!" he cried. "Let me jump!"

  Frank jammed the key in and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see this.