The Lazarus Plot Read online

  "If only it were that simple," said the Gray Man. "But you see, one of the methods we've employed to keep our head's identity a total secret is not to have any mechanical lines of communication with the boss.

  "I think, especially after seeing how hostile forces succeeded in finding out the link between you and me, that you can see our wisdom in doing that. Only I have contact with our head, in ways that no one shadowing me can suspect. That's just part of the security system that our head has personally devised, and it's proved to be the most effective cover a secret official has ever had until now, anyway."

  "Then you'll have to rush some of your men to cut off the doubles," said Frank.

  "Letting our own agents in on the secret would break the system wide open," said the Gray Man.

  He went to his desk and pulled out a Browning automatic pistol and put it in a shoulder holster that he also took from the desk. He removed his jacket, fastened the holster, and put his jacket on again. "There's only one way to do it. We have to go ourselves."

  "What a good idea. Let's all go together." It was Frank's voice, but it came from the doorway.

  Silently the door had been swung open, and Frank II stood there, with a Beretta pistol leveled. As he stepped into the room, Joe II followed an identical pistol in his hand.

  "Brother Frank is right," said Joe II. "'I'm sure our twins here are simply dying to meet the Network head."

  "Well, maybe we can arrange that," said Frank II, with the kind of shark like grin that had never appeared on Frank Hardy's face. "First, they'll see the head. And then they'll die."

  Chapter 11

  "GOOD THING WE checked with home base before we proceeded with the plan," said Frank II as Joe II relieved the Gray Man of his pistol and pocketed it, then frisked the Hardys for weapons.

  "Yeah," replied Joe II. "They told us that you two bright boys had escaped and might be coming after us. We were ordered to double back, wait outside this place in case you arrived, and then put you and Mr. Gray out of action."

  "Contingency Plan A," added Frank II. "The boss covers all bases when he sets up a job."

  "Thanks to you boys, we had to junk our original mission," said Joe II.

  "A real shame." Frank II shook his head. "It was a doozy of a scheme. The boss's best ever."

  "But at least we'll accomplish something," said Joe II; "We'll get rid of the head of the Network, Mr. Gray, and of course you two."

  "You'll never get away with this," said the Gray Man. "You'll never even get out of this building." Frank II smiled. "I don't think we'll have any trouble."

  "The boss told us what to do," said Joe II. "We just walk out."

  "With you and the Hardy boys," added Frank II. He was wearing Frank's favorite seersucker jacket. He put his pistol hand in the pocket but kept the gun pointed at the Gray Man.

  Joe II put his pistol hand in the pocket of the windbreaker he had taken from Joe's closet. He, too, kept his weapon on the Hardy boys. "Now let's walk out of here together, nice and slow," said Frank II.

  "And what will the guard think when he sees two pairs of Hardy boys?" asked the Gray Man.

  "The boss thought of that, like he thinks of everything," replied Joe II. "He said this was one place where nobody would even blink."

  "Yeah, he said Network people would be used to seeing weird stuff," said Frank II. "They'd figure using doubles was just a new trick of the trade."

  Their boss was right. The guard didn't blink an eye when he saw them. In fact, he opened the door for them to go out.

  The doubles shepherded Mr. Gray and the Hardy boys down the street and around a corner. There a large black Mercedes waited for them. "You guys do things in style," remarked Joe.

  "Money is something we don't have to worry about," Joe II replied.

  "Yeah, whoever said that crime doesn't pay has never heard about us," said Frank II. He pulled his gun out of his pocket and motioned for the Hardys to sit in the backseat. Then the doubles got in front, with Mr. Gray squeezed between them.

  "Don't you two get any funny ideas back there," said Joe II. "My gun is going to be pressed against Mr. Gray here the whole ride. One false move from either of you, and he gets it."

  "Just sit back and enjoy the scenery." Frank II pressed the starter and the engine purred to life. "It's your last trip, so you might as well make the most of it.”

  Frank and Joe exchanged looks, each hoping to see in the other's eyes a gleam of inspiration, a bright idea for getting out of the jam. But there was nothing.

  They turned away from each other and looked out the car window as they drove out of the city slum and over a bridge spanning the Potomac River. Soon they were traveling through a countryside that seemed a world away from the mixture of grandeur and grime that was the nation's capital. They saw green fields divided by low stone walls, untouched stands of forest, rippling brooks, and large mansions set far off the high way.

  "Pretty cool, huh?" remarked Joe II. "Fairfax County, Virginia. This is where the rich folk live. You know the fox-hunting set."

  "Except we're doing a different kind of hunting," said Frank II. "Headhunting"

  "You guys are real jokers," Joe replied sarcastically. "Yeah, a riot," added Frank. "Glad you think so," said Joe II. “‘Cause then you can die laughing."

  "And you won’t have long to wait for the punch line," said Frank II as he turned the Mercedes off the main highway, passing a sign that read Allingham Manor, and onto a narrow blacktop road that cut through a stand of forest.

  "Wow!" exclaimed Joe as the road emerged from the forest and he saw an immense, beautifully tended town gleaming emerald in the late afternoon sun light. In the distance was a large, white mansion with Grecian columns.

  Joe peered at the house as they approached it.

  "It looks like something George Washington could have lived in at Mount Vernon." "Or Jefferson, at Monticello," added Frank.

  "But definitely not the kind of place that the Network head would live in," said Joe II. "Pretty shrewd.”

  "But not shrewd enough." Frank II stopped the car on the white-pebbled circular driveway in front of the mansion.

  "This is where we get out," said Joe II. With his gun pressed against the Gray Man, he eased out of the car and his brother did the same.

  They motioned for the Hardys to follow. When they did, the doubles put their pistols back in their jacket pockets, but kept them at the ready.

  "And how do you figure on getting past the guards here?" asked Frank. "What kind of brilliant plan did your leader come up with?"

  "That's the beautiful part," replied Joe II, smiling at a private joke.

  "No plan needed," said Frank II with the same kind of grin. "You tell them, Mr. Gray. If I did, it would crack me up."

  The Gray Man, a pained expression on his face, cleared his throat uncomfortably and said, "Unfortunately, there are no guards here." "No guards?" repeated Joe, baffled.

  "But you must have some kind of security," said Frank, and then paused, not wanting to say more. He didn't want to tip the Gray Man's hand. Maybe the Gray Man had been on to their doubles from the very first and was laying a trap for them.

  "No, he's not fooling you or us," said Frank II, as if he had been reading Frank's mind.

  "Come on, Mr. Gray, explain the setup here to these two bright boys, just like you explained it to us when you thought we were them," said Joe II, enjoying the Gray Man's discomfort.

  "It's the chief's idea," said the Gray Man defensively. "Actually, it's quite brilliant. The idea is that the best security system is no security system at all. Even the most cleverly disguised guards can be spotted through their own lapses or through leaks in the organization that hires and trains them. So the chief does without all the usual protection and lives completely in the open, which is the most ingenious cover ever devised."

  "Talk about being too smart for your own good.” said Frank II "Your boss takes the cake."

  "Our boss told us this job would be no sweat," ad
ded Joe II, "but even he didn't suspect how easy it would be."

  Frank II rang the front doorbell, and a formally dressed butler answered. When he saw the Gray Man, he bowed his head slightly in recognition.

  "Come for a visit, sir?" the butler asked. The Gray Man glanced at the pistol bulging in Joe II's jacket, then said, "That's right, Harvey."

  The butler ushered them inside and said, "Please wait in the drawing room while I announce your arrival."

  The butler left them and started up a winding stairway while the Gray Man led the others into a large, elegant drawing room. It was painted a delicate robin's-egg blue and was furnished in the style of the eighteenth century, complete with a gleaming harpsichord. "Your boss has refined taste for somebody in such a tough racket," Frank II commented, looking at the paintings on the wall.

  "A lot of things about the chief would surprise you," said the Gray Man. The Gray Man was putting it mildly. At that moment, the Network head entered the room, after dismissing the butler at the doorway.

  The doubles' jaws dropped open. The Hardy boys were just as startled.

  "What brings you here, Gr.? Our next meet isn't scheduled until the fox hunt on Saturday," she said.

  There was a sharp glint of suspicion in the eyes of the slender, white-haired woman as she looked at the Gray Man, and then at the Hardy boys and their doubles.

  "What is this? Some kind of masquerade?" she asked. Her hand moved toward the expensive purse she was carrying. It was slung from the shoulder of an exquisitely tailored summer tweed jacket that made her look as if she had stepped out of a fashion ad for gracious country living.

  "Freeze, baby," said Frank II as he whipped his gun out of his pocket before she could open her bag.

  "Toss that bag here-closed," ordered Joe II, pulling out his gun, too.

  The woman's face did not change expression, as if facing a pair of guns was the most natural thing in the world. With a slight shrug, she tossed the bag to Frank II.

  He opened it immediately. "A Browning automatic," he said. "That's a pretty big piece for a nice little old lady to be carrying."

  "Cut the jokes," she said. "What's going on here, Gray? Did you foul up?"

  "Let me explain how it - " the Gray Man began. "Yeah, he fouled up," Frank II interrupted. "Don't worry, though," said Joe II. "He's going to pay for it." "Unfortunately, lady, so are you," said Frank II.

  "This must be some kind of mistake," the woman replied. "My name is Laura Van Appels and I have no idea what you want with me. If it's loot you're after, please just take what you want and go. I'm sure Mr. Gray has somehow divulged that you can ransack this place without fear. I detest guards and burglar alarms. They're so vulgar. That's why I carry that dreadful gun in my purse, though I hardly know how to use it." "Nice try, Laura baby, but no cigar," said Frank II. "But don't feel bad, you had a great cover," added Joe II.

  "No way would we have cracked it without help from your friend’s here." said Frank II. "But all good things have to end." Then, in a curt voice, Joe II commanded, "All of you sit down against the wall, cross-legged, three feet from one another, with your hands tucked under you."

  Laura Van Appels and' the Gray Man obeyed immediately, but Frank and Joe hung back. Each was desperately looking for a way to get the guns out of their doubles' hands. But the guns stayed in those hands, pointed dead at the Hardy boys.

  "Come on, you two, move it," Joe II ordered, and Frank and Joe joined the others sitting cross legged against the wall.

  They watched helplessly as Frank II removed a roll of thin wire from his pocket, along with a wire cutter, while Joe II kept the captives covered. Swiftly and expertly Frank II bound the hands and feet of the Gray Man and his boss. .

  "Don't move and the wire won't cut into your skin," he advised them as he stood up and inspected his handiwork with satisfaction. Then he turned to the Hardy boys. "Now for you two," he said.

  Frank and Joe had the same thought. Maybe when Frank II tried to bind them up, they'd have a chance to.

  But their plan died before it could be born. "Get to your feet and stand in the middle of the room," Frank II-ordered.

  After the Hardys had reluctantly obeyed, Frank II said, "Now to finish setting the scene." He pulled the bell cord to summon the butler.

  The butler was right on the job. Two minutes later he came through the door, and Frank II, pressed against the wall next to the door, brought his pistol butt down on the butler's head.

  The butler dropped in a heap on the carpet. "I bet you wonder what we're doing," Joe II Said, grinning at the Hardy boys.

  "I can guess," replied Frank, who had been following the sequence of events keenly, putting it together, like a jigsaw puzzle in his mind. "Okay, tell us, if you're so smart," said Frank II.

  "You shoot the butler and the two tied up over there with your Berettas. Then you shoot us with the Browning. Next you put the Berettas in our hands, and the Browning in the butler's hand so when the police arrive, it looks as if we killed the Gray Man and Laura, then were surprised by the butler, whom we had knocked out, but who came to before we thought he would. He shot us, but not before we shot him. I bet you even have an extra gun in your pocket to plant on the butler, since you couldn't have counted on Laura packing one."

  "Very good, it’s like you can read my mind," said Frank II, pulling out the spare gun from his pocket. "But I guess I shouldn't be surprised. After all, your mind is my mind-of course; they left out your goody-goody conscience.'" He smiled. "Let me tell you, it's a real pleasure being programmed to be as smart as you. The boss told me that I would have the brains to come up with something good on the spot, and now I know where those brains come from." "Yeah," Joe II said to Frank. "It's a real pity you aren't a little smarter." Frank II agreed. "It's a crying shame. But I've thought and thought, and even with all your brains, I can't figure out how you can get out of this alive."

  Chapter 12

  SOMETIMES BRAINS AREN'T enough to save you. Sometimes you need luck, pure dumb luck.

  That fact was brought home to Frank Hardy at the very moment when he had given up trying to use his brains.

  He heard a groan from the butler, who was lying on the carpet, and saw the man start to sit up.

  Joe heard and saw the same thing.

  So did Frank II and Joe II.

  None of them had time to think, about what they were doing.

  Both Frank II and Joe II instinctively turned to handle the butler.

  And in that split second, Frank and Joe made their move.

  Frank karate chopped Frank II's gun hand, sending the Beretta flying. Joe slammed into Joe II, knocking him off balance. Before Joe II could recover, Joe had twisted his arm behind him and forced him to drop his gun. So far so good.

  But then the Hardy boys ran into trouble, double trouble.

  Frank's double easily carried what should have been a knock-out chop and stood facing Frank, looking for an opening to deliver a blow of his own Joe's double freed himself from Joe's hold by suddenly relaxing his muscles, then yanking his arm loose in the split second when Joe was readjusting his grip, a plot that Joe himself had often used in the past.

  Facing Joe II, Joe remembered the slugfest he had had with his double back at the clinic. Neither of them had been able to come out on top before the fight had been broken up. Joe looked Joe II in the eyes and saw the reflection of his own face in those eyes that could have been his own. It was crazy, he thought, like looking down some kind of fun house hall of mirrors, seeing endless reflections of himself, until he hardly knew who he was and where he was. He felt dizzy. Joe had to get a hold of himself. He clenched his fists, cocked his right hand, and threw it. But Joe II easily blocked the punch, and then followed with a lightning right cross of his own.

  Joe jerked back his head just in time and felt the fist whiz by an inch from his chin. Instantly he countered with a vicious left hook. It hit empty air as Joe II jerked his head back.

  Again they faced each other, and
Joe II grinned. "Just like before. You can't lay a hand on me," he said. "I've got all your moves and all your speed. But maybe they've programmed a few tricks into me that you don't have. This is going to be a real interesting fight.”

  Meanwhile, Frank and Frank II were circling each other, feinting, trying to find or force a chink in the other's defenses. Finally Frank lashed out with his foot in a kick that his teacher would have applauded, only to be caught easily by Frank II and thrown to the ground.

  But when Frank II tried to follow up his advantage by jumping on top of Frank, Frank rolled out of the way and leapt to his feet. Frank II instantly followed, and once again they were circling each other warily, both breathing hard. .

  "Logically, neither of us can win," said Frank II. "Unless, of course, the clinic gave us a winning edge over you."

  "We'll have to find that out," said Frank, refusing to stop hunting for some way to get at his double, while carefully keeping up his guard.

  But it was Frank II who made the next move a dirty move. .

  He leapt back, grabbing a sherry decanter from one of the elegant tables. With one motion, he whipped out the stopper and threw the wine into Frank's and Joe's eyes, blinding them.

  But even through the pain, Frank's first thought was for his brother. He turned his head to see Joe II cocking his right hand for a savage punch.

  At the same moment and in the same pain, Joe instinctively checked out his brother's safety. He saw Frank II readying a killer chop that could snap Frank's neck like a brittle twig.

  Frank forgot his pain as he leapt to his brother's defense, catching Joe II's right arm with a chop that paralyzed it, then following it with a chop that sent Joe II to the floor. Joe II twitched once, and then lay there unconscious.

  Meanwhile Joe had jumped Frank II, who saw his fist coming a fraction too late. A moment later, Frank II was out on the floor, with Joe standing over him, blowing on his bruised knuckles.