Diplomatic Deceit Page 6

  The muzzle flash from the gun lit up the gunman's face for an instant. Joe recognized the mismatched features of Old Ugly, the guy who'd tried to knife Callie in the Capitol.

  Then the instant was past. Joe was behind the van, landing hard. He lay flat on the ground for a moment, the wind knocked out of him.

  He heard another chattering burst of death from the MAC-10. Old Ugly must be emptying the gun's clip at Frank and Callie!

  The sound of gunfire abruptly cut off and was replaced by the noise of an engine being revved and the squeal of tires as the car took off.

  Joe forced himself to his feet and set off at a slow run for where he'd last seen Callie and Frank. There they were, lying flat on the pavement. No blood - they were all right.

  A second later they got shakily to their feet. Both were pale, but neither had been hit. They'd had a close call, but close doesn't count for hit men.

  "Are you guys okay?" Joe asked.

  "If we hadn't gotten your warning, we'd look like Swiss cheese," Callie said, shuddering. "Thanks, Joe."

  "I was just carrying the message," Joe said. "Maddy's the one who spotted the guy in the car. Isn't that right, Maddy?"

  He looked over his shoulder, but Madeleine wasn't standing there. In fact, she didn't appear to be on the block anymore.

  Joe felt a cold chill run up his back. Had the gunmen gotten Maddy?

  No, she wasn't on the sidewalk. She wasn't anywhere nearby. The car hadn't stopped to abduct her, either. No one else was around. Madeleine had just taken off after warning him. Joe shook his head. Should he thank her? Or was he trusting Madeleine too much?

  Frank, Joe, and Callie took the fastest route back to their hotel. When they arrived on their floor, Frank took the key to Callie's room.

  Motioning to the other two to stay away, he leaned against the wall, extending his arm to unlock the door while staying out of the doorway itself.

  As the key clicked in the lock, he threw the door open, flattening himself against the wall again.

  No shots rang out. In fact, nothing happened.

  Frank went into a crouch and swung around the door to take a quick look inside the room. Then he shrugged and stood up. "Looks empty to me," he said.

  Callie shook her head. "Don't you think you're taking things a little far?" she asked.

  Joe shrugged. "You've never seen him when the family comes home from a long vacation."

  "Hey, we were just shot at by a bozo who meant business," Frank said. He stepped back into Callie's room. "That reminds me - I'd better check for bombs or bugs."

  A couple of minutes later Frank came back into the hall. "As far as I can see, the place is clean. Come on in, guys - we've got some stuff to talk about."

  Joe took a quick trip down the hall to get some cans of soda, then they all settled down for a council of war.

  "We've only been in this city for two days, and a lot of weird stuff has gone down," Frank said.

  "That's putting it mildly," Joe said.

  Callie nodded, ticking off the incidents on her fingers. "We've got a purse snatching, and the shoplifting accusation by the store manager. Then there's that pushing scene in the Metro-first me, then Joe - "

  "Not to mention those guys following us at the Mall," Joe added.

  "Ending with the guy and his knife in the Capitol," Callie went on. "Do we count Joe's fight at the club, that Ansel guy trying to run us down, and the Roaring Twenties-style rubout on the way home?"

  She looked down at her fingers. "That's eight separate bits of trouble since we got here. Boy, time really flies when you're having a great time."

  Joe shook his head and looked at his brother. "Who told me this was going to be a nice, quiet vacation?"

  Frank wasn't in a mood for joking. "We've walked into the middle of something here, something dangerous. The only way to get out of this alive is to find out what's going on. That was why I wanted to go to the Quarter tonight."

  "Well, I knew you had to have another reason," Joe said.

  "Did it help?" Callie asked.

  Frank shook his head. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "But I have noticed something. We can break down all the incidents of the past couple of days into two categories. There's the purse snatching, the pushing on the platform, the tails, the guy with the knife - "

  "And the guy with the gun," Joe cut in. "Did either of you notice that he was the same guy who followed us into the Capitol?"

  Frank stared at his brother for a second. "Are you sure?" Then he shook his head. "That ties it up a little closer."

  Callie and Joe looked at him in confusion.

  "Don't you see?" Frank said. "Five incidents dealing with complete strangers - and all, it seems, aimed at Callie."

  "What?" Callie sat up straighter on the couch.

  "Sorry, Callie, but look at the facts." Frank's face wasn't happy as he tried to convince his girlfriend. "It was your purse that got snatched. You were the first guy's target on the Metro platform. Joe was attacked only when he took off after the guy."

  "You can't blame those guys following us at the Mall on me," Callie said.

  "We don't know who they were following," Frank admitted. "But when the guy with the knife finally attacked us, he went for you."

  "And when he came back with a gun, he went for you and Frank, not me and Maddy." Joe frowned. "This is getting a little scary."

  "You're telling me," Callie said with a gulp. She looked at Frank. "Why is this happening?"

  "I keep remembering Old Ugly talking to his friends back at the Capitol," Frank said. "I caught two words - (le coup.' "

  "Sounds French," Joe said, frowning. "But I don't think these guys look like they're involved in a military coup."

  "It means other things in French, too, you know," Callie said. "It could be a blow." She shuddered. "Like a knife blow. Or a shot."

  "Or a criminal job," Frank added. "Maybe we've gotten in the way of a gang."

  "Great." Callie rolled her eyes. "But you said there were two categories of incidents."

  "You're not going to like this any better," Frank said. "We've got the shoplifting incident, where Maddy got you in trouble. Then there was the run-in at the club." He looked sharply at Joe. "Are you sure you simply lost that wallet?"

  Joe stiffened. "What do you mean?"

  "We all saw that videotape from the store. Maddy is pretty light with her fingers." Frank leaned over his brother. "Could she have gotten it out of your pocket?"

  "No way," Joe told him. Even as he spoke, he wondered why he was protecting Maddy. Maybe it was a hunch, but he thought he'd get more out of her alone than siccing Frank and Callie on her as well.

  Frank's gaze was still leveled on Joe, but he didn't keep up his questioning. "Well, anyway, Maddy was responsible in part for that whole scene - and involved in what came after," he finally said.

  "So we've got five things that are strangers' faults and three that are Maddy's." Callie rubbed a hand over her face, suddenly looking very tired. "I just don't understand. We've been writing letters back and forth for years. I really thought I knew Maddy. Here was my chance to meet her, and I was so excited."

  She flung herself back on the couch, scowling. "Some excitement. My friend gets me in trouble, and people are trying to kill me. It doesn't make any sense. The Madeleine Berot who wrote all those letters is nothing like the girl we've met. She's gone through a complete change of personality - it's like she's another person." Callie sighed. "She really had me fooled."

  "She isn't all bad," Joe pointed out. "She really seemed sorry when she got you in trouble, and she did warn us about that guy with the gun."

  Frank looked grim. "The only reason Callie's in this city is Madeleine Berot."

  "It could be two separate cases, or two separate gangs," Frank continued, deep in thought. "The question is, what does anyone want?"

  "Well, I know what I want," Callie spoke up suddenly. "That's the key to your room. All of a sudden I don't feel very safe sleeping in he
re."

  Frank got out his key. "It's yours - just as soon as we check for any possible surprises."

  The room next door was clean, too, and Callie moved in.

  "You know what to do now?" Frank asked at the door.

  Callie nodded, reciting Frank's instructions like a school child who's memorized them. "Keep the door locked, and don't let people in unless they're accompanied by a Hardy." She grinned, staring hard at Frank and Joe. "Just memorizing your faces."

  "Hilarious," Frank said sourly. "Please, Callie, be careful."

  "Okay."

  Frank stood outside the door as Callie double-locked it, then put on the bolt. Then he headed for Callie's room, where he and Joe would stay.

  "Think we'll have any unfriendly visitors tonight?" Joe asked.

  Frank growled in response as he settled down for sleep.

  Joe lay under the covers but couldn't drift off.

  Neither, it seemed, could Frank. He quietly slipped out of bed, picked up a chair in the darkness, and brought it over to the door, where he jammed it under the knob and sat on it. He had scoffed at Joe's suggestion earlier.

  But now Frank Hardy was taking no chances.

  Chapter 11

  A heavy hand landed on Frank Hardy's shoulder, brutally shaking him out of his uneasy sleep.

  Instantly, Frank was awake - if not very aware. He took a wild swing at the fuzzy figure in the murk in front of him, nearly falling to the floor. The shaker jumped back as if he'd just awakened a wild man.

  Maybe he had.

  "Wha - whazzat?" Frank said, trying to figure out why he was sitting in a chair. This wasn't his room at home. It was a hotel room. Callie was next door - maybe in danger!

  "You sure you're awake?" Joe asked a little skeptically.

  Frank calmed down. "Yeah. I'm awake and hurting." He stretched, rubbing his back.

  "Chairs are not constructed for sleeping in. But I'm sure you didn't shake me to get a furniture report. What's up?"

  "I was lying here, wide awake, and I had an idea," Joe explained.

  Frank fixed him with the evil eye. "You woke me after I'd finally fallen asleep to tell me you had an idea?"

  "It's early morning," Joe said. "And that ties in with my idea." He explained what he had in mind while Frank went into the bathroom and threw some cold water on his face.

  Awake at last, Frank studied his brother. "That actually does make sense," he finally admitted. "But I'm going to make you go over and wake up Callie and explain it to her." He looked around for a clock. "What horrible hour is it, anyway?"

  "Six-thirty," Joe said. "We'll have to move if we really want to catch them. You get Callie, and I'll try to wash the sleep out of my head," Frank said as a yawn popped his jaw open, startling him. "I think this is no time to get up during vacation."

  ***

  Forty minutes after Joe had awakened Frank, he, Joe, and Callie were standing under the awning of an apartment house. The three of them were across the street and down the block from where the Berots lived.

  Callie hid a yawn behind her hand as they stood watching the Berots' door. "You want to explain this to me one more time?" she said.

  "Frank started me thinking last night," Joe began.

  Callie gave him a look. "I'm glad something started you," she said.

  Joe ignored her, going on. "Frank blamed one set of awful stuff on strangers, and the other on Madeleine Berot. We can't check up on the mystery men, but we can check up on the Berots. There are three of them, and three of us."

  "So we're hanging around here at this ungodly hour so we can follow them when they come out," Callie finished. "What do you think we'll find out?"

  Joe shrugged. "I don't know, but it's better than being sitting ducks."

  "You got me there," Callie admitted. "Okay, who gets which Berot?"

  "I'm following Maddy," Joe quickly announced, getting a shake of the head from Callie.

  "Trust you to follow the girl," she told him. "Are you sure you aren't falling for her?"

  "Falling? No way," Joe answered. But there are things I want to talk to her about, he said to himself.

  "I'd like to tail Mr. Berot," Frank said, "if that's okay with you, Callie."

  "Sure," Callie said. "That leaves Mrs. Berot for me - or should I call her Madame?" She grinned. "I think you guys are sticking me with the easiest tail job because I have the least experience in following people."

  Frank and Joe both held their breaths, expecting an explosion.

  "Actually, that's probably a good idea. Thanks for thinking ahead, guys."

  The Hardys remained in astonished silence for a good half-hour before Mr. Berot emerged from the building, dressed in a suit.

  "Here's my guy," Frank said. "Wish me luck." He waited until Mr. Berot had half a block on him, then started strolling after him.

  Joe glanced at his watch. "Frank may have a more boring job than he thinks. Mr. Berot's probably on his way to work."

  "Well, then, I guess he'll have to plant himself in front of the French embassy," Callie said. "You can never tell when Mr. Berot might pop out for some sort of funny business." She grinned. "I expect he gets a lunch hour and a couple of coffee breaks."

  How much longer would they have to wait there? Joe wondered.

  Not much, as it turned out.

  "Joe," Callie whispered, grabbing his arm. "Look."

  A blond woman stepped out of the building, wearing a navy blazer and a gray skirt.

  "That's Mrs. Berot - my turn," Callie said.

  As Joe turned to look, the woman across the street glanced at her watch, then rubbed her hands together in a nervous gesture. He remembered that from his introduction to the woman. She'd rubbed her hands the same way when Frank and her husband got into that very undiplomatic argument.

  Callie let the woman pass, then set off after her. "Wish me luck, Joe."

  "Good luck," Joe said dutifully. You'll probably need it, he added silently.

  Joe settled back to wait for Madeleine. She didn't show - apparently taking a nice, long rest after the night's dancing and running around.

  Joe looked at his watch for the hundredth time and shook his head. I could have slept for another two hours, he told himself, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

  At last, however, his waiting was rewarded. The apartment house door swung open, and there was Maddy. Joe stepped back into the shadows of the awning, allowing her to get a lead on him.

  He let Maddy get well ahead - no use taking a chance that she'd see him tailing her. And he certainly didn't have to run to keep up. Wherever Madeleine was going, she was heading there at a very easy pace.

  Joe followed as Maddy strolled down to M Street. He remembered there was a bridge over the gorge between Washington proper and Georgetown up there. Sure enough, that's where] Madeleine was heading.

  Time to close up the gap, Joe told himself. There are lots of winding little streets in Georgetown. We had a case where someone almost lost us there.

  At least the streets weren't jammed. Maddy stayed to the main shopping areas on M Street.

  Joe sighed as she started hitting the boutiques. Hope she doesn't get popped for shoplifting again, he thought. I don't know how the cops would react to my staking out the station house.

  ***

  For the next hour and a half, Madeleine went from shop to shop, trying things on and checking things out. Generally, she spent about twenty minutes per store. So, when she was in one for half an hour, Joe began to get a little concerned.

  What if there's a back entrance I don't know about? he wondered.

  Finally he abandoned the observation post he'd taken up across the street by a stationery store and went to look in the window.

  There was Maddy - standing right in front of him at the checkout counter.

  Joe ducked down and headed across the street to hide in the entrance of an old-fashioned pharmacy. Just my luck to peek into the first store where she buys something, he groused. Ho
pe she didn't see me.

  Madeleine came out of the boutique and set off down the street without checking for any tails - and without a glance in Joe's direction.

  He stayed on the opposite side of the street from her and nearly a block behind. Maddy didn't seem suspicious at all. She was just walking along, obviously very pleased with herself and her window-shopping.

  She walked up to a pay phone, put in some coins, and started punching in a number. Taking advantage of the distraction, Joe moved closer. He slipped into a candy store on her side of the street and watched Madeleine through the panes of the front window. She seemed to be making notes on a copy of a guidebook.

  "Get you something, son?" the elderly owner asked.

  A few minutes later, armed with a small bag of peppermint sticks, Joe took off after Maddy as she walked along Wisconsin Avenue.

  He sighed through another boring round of window-shopping. Then Maddy suddenly left the main street, turning right on Q Street.

  Joe remembered that there was another bridge back into Washington proper up ahead - as well as a bunch of embassies.

  Maddy had reached the pair of massive buffalo statues that flanked the end of the bridge. There was a sharp curve, and for a moment Joe lost sight of her. He picked up his pace.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Joe saw a car move up. He didn't think about it because he was so interested in seeing where Madeleine had gone.

  Before he got four more steps, though, the car suddenly swerved off the road to block the sidewalk right in front of him.

  Joe took a step back as three guys burst out of the car. He recognized two of them. One was the short, stocky guy who'd followed them around the Mall. The other was the tall, thin one who'd tried to push Callie - then him - off the station platform.

  They tackled him like pros, Shorty and Skinny grabbing Joe's arms. While he tried to pull loose, the third, a pimply faced wiry guy, grabbed him by the legs.

  Writhing and kicking, Joe struggled madly. It did him no good. He had no leverage to fight off his attackers. They had no trouble lifting him up to the stone railing of the bridge. Below him was a sixty-foot drop.

  And these guys were ready to send him down it.