The Borgia Dagger Read online

  "Well, I wasn't really watching the road. All of a sudden, this big blue sedan honked its horn. Tessa choked back a sob. "I thought it was tryin to pass, so I moved over. Then it pulled alongside me and came closer and closer trying to drive me off the road."

  "Did you see who was in the car?" Frank asked.

  "No, I don't remember anything from that point on," she said. "I must have hit my head or something — it's all a blank."

  "Nothing in the rear-view mirror? Was it one or two people?"

  Tessa looked confused. "Two, I think."

  "Male?"

  "I think so."

  "Wearing business suits? " "I don't know — maybe. Why? Do you know who it might be?" "I have a feeling Harley and I may have run into them earlier." Frank got up and began pacing round. "But why all this Borgia hocus-pocus? We've got to put these pieces together. Tessa, ve'll take you back to the house, and Dr. Landsdale can take a look at — " "No," Tessa said sharply. "I'm too frightened to go back there. Whoever's trying to kill me can easily find me at home."

  Dr. Lansdale stood up and took Frank by the arm and she led him away from the other three. "Just a minute, Frank," she said softly. "Tessa's right, going back to the mansion isn't such a good idea, Especially since the dagger has disappeared. We can't be sure the thief isn't still on the premises." "That's true," he answered. "But don't you think Tessa's head should be looked at?" "She seems fine, aside from being shaken up. Let's go to a diner or something for a couple of hours, where she can at least calm down. That's what she needs most."

  "If you say so, Doctor. Actually, a restaurant might be a good place to sort out all the clues."

  Frank turned back to Joe. 'Callie's been tailing Squinder for a while. I'll go pick her up to join us. Why don't we meet you at the Argo for dinner?" Then he smiled at Tessa. "It may be not the kind of restaurant you're used to, Tessa, but it's safe, and it'll be more comfortable than sitting here!"

  ***

  Callie broke into a grin when she heard frank Hardys' van pull up behind her car. She parked a block away from Squinder's house.

  Frank walked over to the car and leaned in the driver's window. "I came to relieve you from watch duty."

  "Good. I was starting to get bored. I tail Squinder home from work, and he hasn't left since then."

  "Did you see anything suspicious?" Frank asked.

  "Not really. He reshot his scene a couple times at the mall, then sat around watching them shoot another scene, and finally went home couple of hours ago."

  "Any visitors?"

  "One guy, sort of short and greasy-looking. He had on a jacket and bow tie, wore tortoise-shell glasses. He may have been the 'Simon' whom Squinder was going to see at six o'clock."

  "Is he still inside?" Frank asked.

  "No, he left alone shortly after he arrived."

  "Good work, Callie. How about taking a dinner break?"

  Callie's face lit up. "Great! I was wondering when you'd ask! Where are we going?"

  "Actually," Frank called over his shoulder as he walked back to the van, "we're meeting Joe and the others at the Argo." "Joe and the others! Just a minute, Frank, I thought we were going out!" "Come on, Callie! Wait till you hear what happened!" With that, Frank started the van and pulled away from the curb. Steaming, Callie followed him.

  Frank and Callie pulled into the parking lot, just underneath broken neon letters that said: THE ARGO RESTAURANT. For a Monday night, the Argo was pretty busy. Several cars were there, and a lively clanking of plates resounded from the dining room.

  In a large booth at the far corner of the dining room, Tessa, Dr. Lansdale, Harley, and Joe sat glumly reading their menus. Behind them, four teenagers were casting quick looks at Tessa and giggling.

  "What took you so long?" Joe asked. "We're starving!"

  Callie sat on the edge of her seat next to Tessa, and Frank sat across from them. "Looks like you're creating a little stir here," Frank remarked, referring to the table behind them.

  "They must have read the paper today," Tessa said.

  "It's that front-page article I was telling you about," Harley said to Frank.

  "After the interview with me," Tessa continued, "that society columnist happened to stick around long enough to see the whole thing happen. And wrote a news story of his lifetime, probably."

  "And more celebrity for you," Frank said.

  "As if I needed it," Tessa answered with a laugh.

  As Frank and Callie opened their menus, Tessa took out a compact and freshened her makeup.

  "Uh, excuse me, are you by any chance Tessa Carpenter?" They all looked up to see a middle-aged woman with a grinning-man and two children.

  Tessa smiled sweetly. "Why, yes. Do I know you?"

  The woman and man laughed. "Oh, no! We've been reading all about you in the papers and magazines," the woman said. "My children have never met anyone famous. I just wondered— could you — I mean, would it be too much to ask you to — "

  "Sign an autograph? Of course!" Tessa answered.

  The woman turned to the little boy behind her. "JASON! GET MY MENU—AND ASK THE WAITER FOR A PEN! ON THE DOUBLE!" She faced Tessa again and said, "Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to him."

  While they ordered and began eating their food, several other people began to drift over to the table to ask for autographs. Tessa greeted each one cheerfully.

  "It's almost as if she enjoys it," Frank muttered to Joe. Callie leaned over to listen to the brothers as menus, placemats, and napkins were being signed over her head.

  "Look at this," Joe answered. "They're lining up. Every single table in this restaurant!"

  "Except for that nerdy-looking guy over there. He's just watching the whole thing," Frank said.

  Joe and Callie turned to look at a balding man with spectacles, a bow tie, and a navy blue blazer.

  Callie did a double-take and spun around, her eyes wide with excitement. "That's the guy!" she whispered.

  "That's what guy?" Frank asked.

  "Simon! The one who visited Squinder this evening."

  Frank and Joe kept a careful eye on the man while they finished eating. Before long the autograph seekers thinned out, and soon the only people in the room were the ones at their table— and the balding man.

  "Why is he just staring at our table with that weird smile?" Joe said under his breath.

  "I don't know," Frank answered.

  Suddenly Tessa let out a big sigh. "I don't believe this. Is this what my life is going to be like from now on? Smiling and signing menus? Answering policemen? You know, they're still calling and asking questions about the shooting."

  "That's one of the things I wanted to talk about," Frank said. "You've got to keep a distance from the press — "

  "He's getting up," Joe said, interrupting.

  Frank watched as the balding man rose from his table. He took out a wad of neatly folded and clipped dollar bills and put some on the table. Then he straightened out his blazer and made sure that a few long strands of black hair were in place over his bald spot.

  Callie craned her neck around to see the man walk slowly over to their table. His eyes were focused on Tessa with a sinister glint. When they weren't looking at her, they were darting nervously from side to side.

  The table fell silent as everyone realized what was happening. They all stared as the man approached.

  He adjusted his collar after stopping beside their booth. Silently, he let his small eyes rove around the table, then he nodded.

  With a strange half smile, he looked straight at Tessa, "Hello, Miss Carpenter," he said. "Edwin Squinder — or should I say, Tyrone Grant—has told me all about you."

  Frank felt every muscle in his body tense as the man reached into his breast pocket and slowly withdrew a gleaming silver object!

  Chapter 15

  "It's a gun!" Tessa screamed. Silverware and saucers fell on the floor as Callie and Joe leapt up from the booth. Both lunged at the man with lightning-quick
speed.

  The man let out a frightened squawk as Callie reached him first, barreling headfirst into his stomach. He tumbled backward into a loaded tray of dirty plates, which flew across the room.

  Joe immediately jumped on top of him and pinned his arms down as the man struggled desperately to protect his face. His glasses lay half on the floor, still dangling from one ear.

  "Help! Help!" he cried in a high-pitched whine.

  Callie bent down and pulled open his jacket to reach inside his inner pocket.

  She looked down at the silver object in her hand. It was small, flat, and rectangular, with a clasp on one side.

  "Are you crazy?" the man said. "It's not worth that much! Take it if you want it so badly."

  Callie flipped the clasp. The top of the object sprang open. Inside, stacked neatly, was a pile of business cards. She read the top one:

  SIMON LESTERMAN COMPANY

  Talent Agency Film, TV, Commercials

  Phone: 555-STAR

  New York Bayport

  Callie and Joe looked at each other numbly. Then Joe hopped off the man, his face quickly turning red with embarrassment. "We - we're so sorry, sir. Please forgive us. We thought you were a — a murderer."

  The man sat up, his face puckered with anger and confusion. Long, thin strands of black hair hung down around his collar. "Murderer? Are you out of your — " As he put the silver case back in his jacket pocket, he stopped. He glanced down at his hand. Slowly he pulled the case back out. A trace of a smirk began to form on his face.

  "I see—" he said slowly. "You thought my card case was a gun!" A low chuckle began to form in his throat. Nervously, Callie and Joe laughed along with him.

  One by one, everyone at the table joined in laughing, as a confused busboy rushed over to clean up the damage.

  "What a team, huh?" Joe said, catching his breath. "Let's check out that busboy — I think he has a bazooka!"

  The busboy scrambled into the kitchen and Callie and Joe sank into their seats.

  "You see, sir, Tessa Carpenter is with us," Frank explained to the man, "and there are so many — "

  "Kooks after her," the man said with a toothy grin. "I understand I've been reading the papers. Ordinarily I'd press charges, but these are special circumstances." He pulled his card case out again. "As a matter of fact, Tessa is the person I want to see."

  He held out a card to her. "My name's Simon Lesterman. Talent agent. I represent Tyrone Grant. To be blunt, you're hot, Tessa. I mean that in a commercial sense. Just look at the way those people flocked after you. You've got the looks, the charm, the exotic background. You could make it big in films or TV."

  Tessa looked at him with disbelief. "Is that why you interrupted our dinner? You just want to use my fame to make yourself a little money, don't you?"

  "You wouldn't do badly yourself, sweetheart."

  "Sweetheart?" Tessa fumed.

  Lesterman shook his head with admiration and said, "Look at that. You're even gorgeous when you're mad!"

  "Get him out of here!" Tessa muttered to Frank.

  "All right, sir," Frank said. "We're all very tired now. Sorry for the confusion, but I think it's best Tessa's left alone now, okay?"

  "Sure thing, young man," Lesterman said. Then he turned back to Tessa. "In case you want to talk, my number's on the card."

  Smoothing his hair back into place, he walked out of the restaurant.

  "Imagine the nerve of him," Tessa snapped. 'Trying to leech onto me like that." She looked scornfully at Joe and Callie. "Thanks for saving - my life from that dangerous murderer. I haven't laughed that hard since before this whole thing started."

  Callie bit back the angry retort that was on the tip of her tongue. Tessa Carpenter made her furious. Tessa had been the one to shout "It's a gun!" even though Joe and she had been the ones to tackle Lesterman. And despite Tessa's big show of disgust at Lesterman's offer, Callie could see a glimmer in her eyes. The excited glimmer of someone who had just been flattered. She could easily tell that Tessa was thinking about TV fame.

  Tessa put Lesterman's card in her pocketbook and looked around the room. "Check, please!" she called out to their waitress.

  Frank leaned forward, finally able to ask a question that had been nagging at him. "Tessa, when you left the house today, did you know where the dagger was?" "Of course," Tessa answered. "In the parlor." Frank and Joe looked at each other. Dr. Lansdale and Harley exchanged a worried glance. "Uh — I think we have a new problem here," Joe added. "What now?" Tessa said. "The dagger is missing, and so is Ruppenthal." Callie's eyes widened, and Tessa gasped. "This gets worse and worse!" Tessa said, burying her head in her hands. "Do you think he took it?"

  "We're not sure," Frank said. "But don't worry, we'll find it."

  "This dagger has caused me so much pain," Tessa moaned. "I'm sick of the whole situation — as soon as you get the stupid thing back, I'm going to auction it off!" She stood up from the table and walked toward the door.

  Dr. Lansdale paid the bill, and they all went out to the cars.

  "Please, won't you all come home with me?" Tessa pleaded. "I feel so keyed up and scared."

  "I'll drive you," Harley said, putting an arm around her. He led her to the Lamborghini. "One of you can take my car."

  They left the diner together — Frank in the van, Callie in her car, Harley and Tessa in the Lamborghini, and Joe and Dr. Lansdale in Harley's car.

  The Lamborghini led the way—slowly, cautiously.

  "All of a sudden Harley's a model driver," Frank said to himself.

  Suddenly Harley's brake lights flashed. "What's he doing now?" Frank asked. "Oh, stopping for gas."

  The Lamborghini slowed down and made a right turn into a gas station. The other three cars pulled over beside the curb.

  Harley drove up right behind a white station wagon full of boxes and suitcases. With his back to the Lamborghini, a man was gassing up the station wagon. When he finished, he held the hose in one hand and fumbled around in his pockets with the other. Out came a set of keys and a matchbook—but no money. The man scratched his head, then opened his front door.

  Honk! "Come on, move it up, will you?" Harley shouted. Annoyed, the man turned around.

  "Hey, hold your hor — "

  The face was instantly familiar.

  Ruppenthal.

  Immediately six doors slammed as everyone got out of a door.

  "Stand back!" Ruppenthal screamed, a look of blind panic covering his face.

  "Hello, Mr. Ruppenthal," Frank said. "You know, you're just the guy we want to see — "

  "I'm warning you, don't take another step — anybody!" Ruppenthal said, holding the gas nozzle as if it were a gun. He looked at Tessa with savage eyes. "You couldn't give me a chance, could you? You couldn't at least wait until the day ended!"

  Overcome with his own fury, Ruppenthal took two steps toward the Lamborghini and pressed the handle on the nozzle. A stream of clear gasoline splashed all over the car's hood. He squirted a trail of it along the ground up to his own car door.

  Tessa and Harley shielded themselves and ducked away. "What are you doing, you fool?" Harley asked.

  "We'll see who's the fool," Ruppenthal replied, dropping the hose onto the ground. He reached into his pocket and took out the book of matches. "All my life I've worked hard, lived by the rules. But you've changed me, Tessa Carpenter. You've turned me into a monster — a monster as ruthless as you are."

  With a frantic ripping motion, he lit a match and held it poised over the gas-soaked car.

  Chapter 16

  "Murderers!" Ruppenthal snarled, as Harley and Tessa backed away. "Now toss me the keys to your cars — all of you — or I'll blow you sky-high!"

  "Has he lost his mind?" Callie whispered to Frank.

  "I don't know," answered Frank. "But I don't think I want to ask him just now."

  Quickly, Frank, Harley, Callie, and Joe reached into the cars, pulled out the keys, and tossed them onto the ground in f
ront of Ruppenthal.

  "Yeouch!" Ruppenthal cried as the match burned to his fingers. He threw it away from the car—and Joe sprinted toward him.

  But instantly Ruppenthal lit another. "Back off," Ruppenthal said, with a maniacal grin. "It's not so easy. Thought I'd be a pushover, didn't you? Now, turn your backs."

  Slowly, everyone obeyed him. Still holding the lit match, Ruppenthal climbed into his car. "Count to ten thousand, backward—and let me hear it!"

  As they all started to mumble, Ruppenthal blew out the match and sped off, his tires screaming.

  As soon as he heard that, Frank ran to the open door of the van. He jumped into the front seat and reached for a cigarette lighter next to the steering wheel. He pushed it in three times and then turned it twice to the right. With a jangling sound, a set of keys popped out.

  He revved up the engine. "Callie, do you have extra keys?"

  She shook her head no. "But my mom will bring me a set."

  "Good. Drive everyone home. I'm going to get Ruppenthal."

  He slammed the van into gear, made a noisy U-turn, and roared off into the street.

  Looking left and right, he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of the white station wagon.

  Suddenly Frank noticed something in the passenger-side mirror. A person—hanging on to the door for dear life.

  He slowed down and stopped in the middle of the road. "What do you think you're doing?" he shouted.

  Tessa's face popped into the window. "That was so exciting! I have always wanted to try that!"

  "What, ride holding on to a van going sixty miles an hour?"

  Tessa nodded, grinning.

  "You must like to put your life in danger!" Frank shook his head. "Come on, get in — we're wasting time!"

  She plopped into the front seat and Frank resumed the chase. He went to the end of the street, where it branched off to the center of town. He drove in the opposite direction, toward the parkway entrance. There he saw a line of cars, waiting to get on.