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  “Neither,” Joe said. “We’re working for our girlfriends.”

  “See, they came to steal the necklace,” Rojas said.

  “How would we know there was even a necklace in there?” Joe replied. “We were looking for evidence.”

  “Why?

  “Well, because our girlfriends, Iola Morton and Callie Shaw, were arrested for robbery, and we think it’s tied into the break-in at the Jewelry Exchange,” Joe explained.

  “So your girls are doing time for a crime they tried to frame us for? Good.”

  “It’s not like that, Rojas,” Frank replied. “Look, we know they’re innocent. Maybe you two are framing them for something you did.”

  “We didn’t do anything,” Wingfoot said. “Man, I can respect you guys trying to help your girlfriends, but we have nothing to say to you that we haven’t said already to the cops.”

  “Hey,” Rojas said, cutting off his friend, “our lawyer told us to follow what the police told us and not say anything to anybody.”

  “Forget the rules,” Wingfoot said. “These guys bent the rules to help their girlfriends. Maybe they can help us.”

  “If you’re innocent,” Joe said, “anything we do to help Iola and Callie will help you.”

  “There’s nothing to help with,” Rojas said. “We have no alibi, some stupid videotape puts us at the scene. Our meat is burned.”

  “Where were you two the night of the robbery?” Frank asked.

  Wingfoot laughed. “That’s the problem,” he said. “We were just with each other, hanging in the woods outside of town. No witnesses, nothing.”

  “That’s the only excuse Callie and Iola have, too.”

  There was nothing more to get from Rojas and Wingfoot. Frank and Joe apologized for breaking into their lockers.

  “I’ll let you two go this time with just a warning,” the coach said. “But the only time or place I ever want to see you around here is on the field for a ball game. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Joe said.

  “Thank you, sir,” Frank added.

  The Hardys left Shoreham High School and started the long drive home.

  “Drive by Callie’s house. We can see if Mr. Shaw has any information after his trip to the police station,” Frank said.

  Joe followed his brother’s instructions. When they arrived at the Shaw residence, there were several cars parked in the driveway. The Hardys recognized the cars belonging to the Shaws, as well as two owned by the Mortons. However, they had no idea who owned the expensive black foreign luxury car.

  Frank knocked on the door. It opened almost instantaneously, as if their arrival was expected.

  “Oh, Frank!” Callie shouted with glee as she grabbed her boyfriend around the waist. Frank returned Callie’s hug. Joe nudged past the two to get to Iola, who was in the entryway.

  “We’re so glad to see you two,” Joe said. “How’d you get bail set so quickly?”

  “Don’t answer that,” Mr. Morton shouted from the living room. “Don’t tell them anything.”

  “Dad!” Iola said angrily as the teens entered the living room. “Enough with this gag order.”

  “Your father is correct,” said a man in a black suit. He was seated on the couch. On the coffee table in front of him rested an open briefcase, a yellow notepad, and several documents.

  “And you are?” Joe asked.

  “Stelfreeze. Brady Stelfreeze, attorney. I’m how bail was set so promptly. But that is the only thing you’ll be told. Anything else these girls tell you will only hurt their chances in court.”

  “Why is everybody over the age of eighteen so determined to keep us from speaking with our friends?” Iola asked.

  “Teen gangs,” Frank said.

  “Huh?”

  Joe explained. “The way we figure it, the police think there is some sort of teen gang committing robberies.”

  “How do you know any of this?” Stelfreeze asked incredulously.

  “Because they’re better than any police detectives,” Callie told him.

  “And we think that they’re our best chance to solve any mystery that involves other people our age, like those two boys from the Jewelry Exchange,” Iola added.

  “Rojas and Wingfoot,” Frank said. “We just left them.”

  “Did you learn anything?” Stelfreeze asked.

  “You first,” Joe replied.

  Stelfreeze said nothing.

  “I’ll break the stalemate,” Iola said. “We were arrested for robbing the Golden Palace Jewelry Store.”

  “Iola!” Mr. Morton shouted.

  “So they don’t directly tie you into the Jewelry Exchange? Interesting.”

  “Frank, I don’t think you’re helping matters here,” Mrs. Shaw said.

  “I think they can,” Mr. Shaw said. “I saw them at the police station. And to tell you the truth, they probably work faster and better than the cops I met down there.”

  “Thanks for the confidence,” Frank said. He turned to Callie. “So why did the police come after you?”

  “Supposedly they have us on videotape robbing the store last night.”

  “You have that tape?”

  “A copy is being delivered to my office later today,” Stelfreeze said.

  “Frank,” Joe said. “It’s almost six o’clock. I say we hit the scene of the crime before the store closes.”

  “Good thinking. It’s always a good idea to look for clues while the trail is warm.”

  Frank and Joe said goodbye and headed to the van. Twenty minutes later they were at the Golden Palace. The store was smaller than the Jewelry Exchange. It didn’t even have its own parking lot. It was in the middle of the block, separated from the store to its left by an alleyway.

  The brothers entered the Golden Palace, which was little more than a wide hallway with glass cases on one side and an office in back. The glass cases were all empty.

  “Can I help you?” asked an old man as he came out of the back room. “We’re not really open.”

  “The door was unlocked,” Frank said.

  “I’ve had police in and out all day. Plus anybody who had something on pre-order who came to pick it up, not knowing we were cleaned out last night. You here to pick up something?”

  “Not anymore, I guess,” Joe said.

  “Sorry. But you’ll get a refund or replacement as soon as the insurance settles or the stuff is recovered.”

  “They got everything, huh? We shouldn’t have ordered from a place with so little security.”

  “Hindsight is twenty-twenty, said the old man. “The security for this place is just that one camera.” He pointed to a camera on the ceiling above the glass cases. “Didn’t figure on needing more than that for a little place like this. And it did its job. Caught those thieves on tape.”

  “Guess it did,” Joe said. “Well, thanks.”

  “Is that an Eye Spy camera?” Frank asked.

  “Sure is,” the man answered. “It worked like a charm.”

  The brothers left the store.

  “Not many clues there,” Joe said.

  The brothers stood outside the Golden Palace for a moment debating what to do next. Just then the front door to the store opened and the old man came outside, struggling to lift a large plastic garbage bag.

  “Need some help with that?” Frank asked.

  “Sure could.”

  Joe took the heavy bag from the man. “Where does it go?”

  “There’s a Dumpster in the alley. Thanks.”

  “No problem,” Frank said. The man went back into the store. Joe headed for the alley, with Frank a step behind.

  “This thing is heavy,” Joe said. “It sounds as though it has glass in it.”

  “Maybe from a case that was broken during the heist.”

  “Could be. Help me lift this up.”

  Frank took hold of the bag. The two heaved it higher to maneuver it over the rim of the Dumpster. Just as the bag cleared the top it ripped, raining glass,
paper, and other debris on to the concrete.

  “At least most of it stayed in the bag,” Joe said as he stooped to scoop up the garbage from the walkway. Frank bent down to help him.

  “Well, what do you know,” Frank said as he sifted through the garbage. “Our good deed with the garbage is going to leave us smelling like roses.”

  9 Video Magic

  * * *

  “I think the smell of this garbage has made you lose your senses, Frank.”

  “Well, it certainly has made me giddy. Here, look at this.” Frank held up a small piece of stiff paper, no bigger than an unfolded chewing-gum wrapper.

  “Looks like a torn lottery ticket,” Joe said, refraining from touching the dirty piece of paper. “Or a movie ticket stub.”

  “Close,” Frank said. “It’s a ticket stub for the Monty Mania show.”

  “So? There are probably hundreds of Monty Mania ticket stubs in garbage bags all over town. It’s a popular attraction.”

  “But think about it,” Frank said. “This stub is from last night’s show. Now it’s here at the same place that Callie and Iola are accused of robbing last night.”

  “So maybe we should put it back in the garbage. From where I’m standing, that ticket stub only makes Iola and Callie look guilty.”

  “Except, one—we know in our hearts they didn’t do it; and two—this stub is not for the seats we were sitting in. In fact, it doesn’t have a seat number.”

  “Like it was a special pass?”

  “Possibly.”

  “So where does that lead us, Frank?”

  “Remember what you found in Rojas’s locker? That picture of him and Wingfoot with Monty Andrews?”

  “I follow you. These two crimes are starting to link themselves to that TV show.”

  “Exactly,” Frank said. “Let’s head for the van to see if we can contact those guys.”

  “So you think it really might be them? Who did the robbery, I mean,” Joe asked.

  “Could be,” Frank replied.

  Frank and Joe went back to the van. They called telephone information and learned that there was only one listing for the name Wingfoot. They dialed the number on their cellular phone and were pleased with the results.

  “Bingo,” Frank said as he clicked off the phone. He hooked his seat belt and started the van.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Wingfoot’s house. Turns out that he and Rojas were at the Monty Mania show before they supposedly robbed the Jewelry Exchange. And to top it all off, they were hypnotized, just like Callie and Iola.”

  “And that proves what? That everybody is innocent?” Joe asked.

  “No, of course it doesn’t. But it may lead us to a theory or to other suspects. Wingfoot has a copy of their performance on Monty Mania. Maybe it will give us some ideas.”

  “So we’re counting them out as suspects?” Joe continued his questioning.

  “Not all the way, Joe. But I’m willing to go innocent until proven guilty for them. They’re being helpful. I’m not sure they’d help us if they were guilty.”

  Frank gunned the van and headed for Pepper Wingfoot’s house. Ten minutes later they were standing in his living room. Roberto Rojas had joined them.

  “How do you think this Monty Mania thing ties in to the robberies?” Rojas asked as Wingfoot cued up the videotape of the pair’s appearance on the show.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Frank answered. “Part of detective work is taking a hunch and breathing life into it.”

  The four young men sat on the couch and watched the videotape. While Wingfoot fast-forwarded through the stuff that didn’t involve him and Rojas, Joe picked up a newspaper from the coffee table.

  “Oh,” he said, “this is yesterday’s paper.”

  “Yeah,” said Pepper. “I figure to keep it because the front page makes me famous. It’s got a snapshot from the video surveillance camera catching me and Roberto in the act of something we didn’t do.”

  Joe put the newspaper back down on the table and turned his attention to the videotape. As he watched Monty Andrews hypnotize the two Shoreham baseball stars, he was eerily reminded of what he had witnessed happening to Iola and Callie.

  “You know,” Frank said, “Monty’s act is sort of the same every time. It must be that whole idea of seeing yourself or somebody you know on television that makes the show popular.”

  “Or maybe he’s hypnotizing the whole world through the screen,” Rojas said.

  Everybody laughed nervously.

  “Now, there’s a scary thought,” Frank said.

  Pepper shivered. “The world would be doomed if somebody could actually do that.”

  “Pause the tape!” Joe suddenly shouted. Wingfoot clicked the remote control.

  “Can you go back a few frames?”

  “This is a cheap VCR,” Wingfoot said. “The best it can do is go forward and backward. I can’t go frame by frame or slow motion.”

  Joe took the remote. “Here, let me reverse it a bit. There.” Joe hit Pause, freezing a scene on the screen.

  “What did he have you doing there?” he asked.

  “He was asking me to act as if I was about to hit a home run,” said Rojas.

  Joe grabbed the newspaper from the table and went over to the television. He held up the picture on the front page that showed Rojas and Wingfoot in the Jewelry Exchange. In the picture, Rojas was swinging a large hammer at a glass case full of jewelry.

  “Look familiar?” Joe asked.

  “Yeah,” Rojas said. “That’s my home run swing. So?”

  Joe didn’t reply. Instead, he turned back to the videotape and hit Play.

  “Let’s watch a little more,” he said.

  After a few minutes Frank put up his hand. “There,” he said.

  Joe hit Pause on the remote again. On the screen, Wingfoot was kneeling down, motioning as though he were picking something up from the floor and putting it in an invisible bag.

  “He had me believing I had hit a jackpot playing slot machines in Vegas,” Pepper said. “You know, a big one, where money is pouring out onto the floor.”

  “Which looks vaguely like you picking up some jewels from the floor and putting them in a bag,” Frank said. “Just like in this picture.”

  “You still haven’t proved anything,” Rojas said. “In fact, you’re starting to make me feel like I am guilty.”

  “Are you?” Joe asked. “Is there something you want to get off your chest?”

  “No!” Rojas shouted. “I’m telling you, we did not rob that store.”

  “We’ll go with your word for now,” Frank said. “You’ve been a lot of help. Can we borrow the video, Pepper?”

  “Sure. Just don’t lose it. I’ve never seen Rojas so funny before. We may need it for laughs in jail.”

  When he got back in the van, Frank used the phone to dial Callie’s house. He spoke with her for a few minutes, then said goodbye and dialed another number. Ten minutes after a very heated conversation, Frank and Joe were standing in the office of Brady Stelfreeze.

  “I still have my reservations about you two being involved in this case,” Stelfreeze said with disdain. “But the girls want you involved, and Mr. Shaw trusts you, so I’m willing to take a chance for now.”

  “You won’t regret it, Mr. Stelfreeze,” Joe said.

  “I hope not. Anyway, I have the tapes from the security cameras at both the Jewelry Exchange and the Golden Palace.”

  “Good,” Frank said. “Let’s see the tape of Callie and Iola, please.”

  Stelfreeze pushed a button on the desk in front of him. A cabinet across the room opened, revealing a large television. He pressed another button and the interior of the Golden Palace filled the screen. The brothers stood as they watched Callie and Iola slink in through the front door.

  “Screwdriver,” Joe said, narrating. “Look around. Spot the security camera . . .”

  “Tape the lens, but the tape falls off,” Frank said.

&
nbsp; It ended there as the girls escaped when a police siren wailed in the distance.

  “That should do it,” Frank said.

  “Do what? Land those two in jail is the only thing that video does.”

  “Not yet, Mr. Stelfreeze,” Joe said. “Do you have a copy of the girls’ appearance on Monty Mania?”

  “Not yet.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Frank said. “Callie said one was sent to her house today.” Frank walked over to the VCR and ejected the videotape.

  “Is this the other one?” Joe asked, pointing to a tape on Stelfreeze’s desk. The lawyer nodded his head as Joe picked up the tape.

  “Good,” Frank said. “It’s getting late, and we have work to do. What time can you be at our house tomorrow?”

  Stelfreeze got a confused look on his face. “Me? Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

  “So bill time and a half,” Joe said. “Here’s the address.”

  “Be early,” Frank said. “Skip breakfast. Mom makes great pancakes.”

  Frank and Joe left the lawyer’s office, drove to Callie’s house to pick up the video she had for them, and headed home. After a quick dinner, Frank asked Joe a favor.

  “Could you disconnect the VCR from the television in the den?”

  “Sure,” Joe answered. “You have something cooking in that head of yours?”

  “Bringing it to a boil, bro. Meet me in my room.”

  Joe retrieved the VCR and hauled it up to his brother’s bedroom.

  “Thanks,” Frank said, taking the VCR from Joe and hooking it to his computer’s video input connector.

  For the next several hours, the brothers were huddled around the computer. The only interruption came at 1:00 A.M. when somebody knocked on Frank’s partially shut door.

  “It’s getting very late, boys,” said Mrs. Hardy, poking her head into the room. “Maybe you should call it a night.”

  “We’re onto something very important, Mom,” Frank replied. “It could help clear Callie and Iola.”

  Mrs. Hardy smiled and retreated without a word. A few minutes later she returned with a tray of snacks and juice to take her sons through what would be a night of hard work.