Trial and Terror (12 page)

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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: Trial and Terror
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“Immediately she thought of Nick Rodriguez,”
Joe said, “Most likely she knew about his relationship with Lee, and she probably even knew he was angry at Lee for breaking off the engagement. And, best of all, he was at Lee's apartment right before the murder attempt. He was the perfect suspect!”

“She thinks Lee may have a set of keys to Nick's apartment,” Frank said, more and more excited as he spoke. “So the next day, while Lee is out, Daggett climbs the fire escape and goes through an open window into Lee's apartment. She finds the keys to Nick's place. Remember, they had Nick's first name on them.”

“Then, using the stolen keys,” Joe said, “she gets into Nick's apartment while he's away at work. She brings the gloves and ski mask with her.”

“Except they're probably a
different
pair of gloves and ski mask that look just like the ones she used for the attack,” Frank said. “That way there won't be any traces of her own hair on them.”

“She gets some hair from Nick's comb or brush and puts it in the ski mask,” Joe said. “Then she stuffs the gloves and mask under Nick's mattress.”

“The cops had examined Nick's place the night before,” Frank said, “but Daggett, who would have already jumped into the case, convinces them to check again. The next day the
cops find the gloves and mask. Nick looks guilty as sin, the cops arrest him, and he goes to trial for the murder attempt.”

“It all fits!” Joe said, pounding the seat in front of him. “It fits perfectly!”

“Well, it
could
have happened that way,” Frank said, placing a hand on Joe's shoulder. “However, we have no absolute proof it
did
happen that way.”

“You know,” Joe said, calming down, “on second thought, I'm not thrilled about accusing an assistant district attorney of attempted murder. If we're wrong, we'll look ridiculous. And if we're right, she's in a position to make things very difficult for us. To save her reputation, she might find a way to put
us
in jail. She's probably smart enough to do it.”

“I know,” Frank said, rubbing his face. “I wish we had some solid proof to back up our story. So far we're still in the realm of guesswork.”

“What should we do?” Joe asked.

“Let's get to the courthouse as soon as possible and talk to Bernie,” Frank said, stretching his legs as the train rushed onward.

At one-thirty, the train came to a stop at Grand Central Terminal in Manhattan. The Hardys hurried through a door and found the subway.

After descending two flights of steps, the Hardys paid their fare and headed for the platform. Frank drummed his fingers on his pants,
waiting for the train that would take the Hardys downtown.

Then Frank noticed a man near the end of the platform, reading a tabloid newspaper. The tabloid's cover showed a photograph of a space alien with its arms around a famous country music star. Then Frank noticed the man behind the paper also looked pretty strange.

It was the man with the red-green hair.

“Look,” Frank said, tugging Joe's arm. “It's that guy from the park. This could be a chance to find out if Daggett sent this guy to do her dirty work.”

“Let's go,” Joe said, already in motion.

The man with the red-green hair turned to see the Hardys approaching. Dropping the paper, he hurried to the very edge of the platform—then leaped off into the train pit. Amazed, Joe watched the man run along the tracks, quickly disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel.

“Should we go after him?” Joe asked.

“Oh, why not?” Frank replied sarcastically. “Compared to leaping into a burning building, this is nothing.”

Frank and Joe lowered themselves into the train pit, then began running along the tracks. Darkness surrounded them, and they heard their footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. They also heard footsteps clattering in the distance ahead.

“Watch out for the third rail!” Frank called to Joe. Both Hardys knew the thick railing that ran parallel to the train tracks carried the electricity that powered the trains.

“No problem!” Joe called back.

Then, as if he were back on the football field at Bayport High, Joe put on a burst of speed. He rushed past steel beams and electrical cables, gaining on the fleeing footsteps ahead. Taking a flying leap, Joe seized the man by his coat and said, “Hey, buddy, I'd like to finish that conversation we started yesterday!”

The man spun around, and Joe could see the guy's pocketknife. With a flick, the long blade shot out. The man lunged with the blade at Joe's face.

“I don't think so,” Frank said, grabbing the man's wrist before the blade could reach Joe. Twisting the man's wrist, Frank said, “Drop it!”

“Ahhh!” the man cried in pain, letting the knife fall to the tracks.

All three of them were panting now. “Do you know what that is?” Joe said, jerking the man's head toward the dangerous third rail.

“Yeah, I know what it is,” the man said. “If you touch it, you get fried like a piece of bacon.”

“Well, that's what's going to happen to you,” Joe said roughly, “unless you do some talking.”

The man's eyes glared like a creature with rabies, but he seemed to get the point. “How can I be of help to you boys?” he spat out.

“Who sent you after us?” Frank asked.

The man hesitated, then spoke. “Some lawyer in the DA's office,” he said. “Daggett or somebody.”

“You're doing real well,” Joe said, still holding the man. “Now, how do you know Daggett?”

Frank glanced up the tunnel toward the station. He realized this would be a very inconvenient time for a train to come. This interview needed to be real fast.

“I'm scheduled to go on trial for burglary in a few weeks,” the man explained. “Daggett is prosecuting the case. Yesterday morning she called me up and said she'd go easy on me in court if I'd do her a small favor. She wanted me to scare you away from whatever you were investigating.”

Frank recalled seeing Daggett on a pay phone at the courthouse the day before, immediately after she met the Hardys. Shortly after that, Frank realized, the man with the red-green hair had appeared in the park.

“When Bernie filed the motion for us to view the evidence,” Frank told Joe, “Daggett knew we were on the case. When she met us, she figured out we were the ones who learned about the missing keys. Because that's another example of withholding evidence, it must have made her nervous.”

“Look, I don't have any idea what this business is about, and I don't care,” the man said, itchy to
get away. “It's nothing personal. I was just trying to save my own skin.”

“We're touched,” Joe said.

“Watch it!” the man cried, pointing to the ground. Joe jumped, seeing a gigantic rat scurry over the tracks straight for his shoes.

In a flash, the man pulled free of Joe. He tore down the tracks, yelling, “Sorry, fellas, just remembered I'm late for a very important appointment!”

Joe started after the man, but Frank grabbed his arm. “I hate it when you do this!” Joe yelled.

“Let him go!” Frank yelled back. “Now we know for sure Daggett's the one we want.”

“But we still don't have any hard evidence!” Joe protested. “That's why we need that creep.”

“No,” Frank argued. “Even if we could haul that jerk into court, no one would believe him.”

A rumbling sound made both Hardys whip around.

Two beams of light pierced the tunnel.

“The train is coming!” Joe exclaimed. “We didn't hear it pull in!”

“And now it's pulling out,” Frank said.

The train's engine rumbled as it accelerated out of the station. Like the eyes of an approaching monster, the headlights grew larger and larger.

“Hey!” Joe yelled, waving his arms at the train. “Stop! We're standing on the track!”

“Stop!” Frank called out. “Stop! Stop!”

Frank saw a driver through a window in the train's front car, but the driver did not seem to see the Hardys. Frank glanced at the concrete walls on either side. The tunnel was just wide enough for the train, leaving no extra room for the Hardys to escape its path.

The train was now picking up speed.

“He doesn't see us!” Joe yelled frantically.

“Only one thing to do!” Frank shouted. “Run!”

15 The Whole Truth

Frank and Joe dashed down the tracks, away from the approaching train.

“Yesterday I saw men working on the tracks!” Joe yelled over the train's engine. “There must be a safe place they go when a train comes through!”

“This would be a great time to find it!” Frank called back.

Running with all his might, Frank felt the ground vibrating under his feet, and it seemed his heart was slamming against the wall of his chest. The train's rumble was now echoing nightmarishly loud in the tunnel.

Headlights flooded the Hardy's path, but the driver still was not slowing or stopping the train. It seemed the train was almost up to full speed.

Frank could sense the train breathing down his back, just about to crush him. He figured he and Joe had about three seconds left.

“Against the wall on the right!” Joe yelled.

By the light of the train, Frank saw several man-size indentations in the tunnel's wall. Frank realized that must be where the repairmen went.

Frank and Joe both dived up against one of the indentations. They froze, still as statues.

A second later, the train roared by, the cars rattling on the tracks with a deafening racket. The silver train was only inches from the Hardys, but that was enough to save their lives. Seconds later the train was speeding away, showing only two red lights on the rear car.

“Good news and bad news,” Joe said as the train's din faded. “We didn't get demolished by that train, but now we have to wait for the next one.”

“I wonder what happened to our friend,” Frank said, looking down the tunnel. “Even though he's not my favorite person, I kind of hope he's okay.”

After catching their breath, Frank and Joe returned to the platform. Only a few of the waiting passengers glanced their way, as if the sight of two well-dressed young men emerging from the tunnel was an everyday occurrence. Minutes later they caught another train downtown.

When they reached the criminal court building, the trial was just about to resume after the
lunchtime break. The Hardys huddled with Myers and Nick at the defense table and hurriedly explained everything they had learned that day.

“This is incredible,” Myers said, pulling a pencil from behind his ear. “Just incredible.”

“But it makes perfect sense,” Nick said, gripping Myers on the arm. “We have to use it!”

“Unfortunately,” Myers said, “all the information Frank and Joe have collected today is just hearsay. That means it came from conversations neither of them was actually present for.”

“Which means it's not allowed in court,” Joe grumbled.

Frank watched Daggett take a seat at her table. She appeared to be perfectly composed, from the top of her frosted blond hair to her shiny high heels.

“But . . . ” Myers said, twirling the pencil in his hand, “maybe there's a way for me to attack Daggett and still play by the rules. I may not be able to show that she's the one who attempted the murder. But there's a chance I can show how she's made Nick's trial extremely unfair.”

As the courtroom filled with people, Myers, Nick, and the Hardys spent a few frenzied minutes coming up with a plan. When the judge entered and called the trial back into session, Myers explained that, based on some new information, he wanted to call a few unexpected witnesses. The judge agreed.

Then Myers called Joe Hardy to the witness stand. The crowd watched with interest as Joe explained that he and Frank were working as PIs for the defense. Then Myers got to the point. “Mr. Hardy,” Myers said, “did you and your brother speak with Karen Lee on Monday of this week?”

“Yes, we did,” Joe replied.

“And did you ask her about a certain set of keys?” Myers asked.

“That's correct,” Joe said. “We asked if she had the keys to Nick Rodriguez's apartment. She said she did. However, shortly after the attempted murder, she noticed the keys were missing.”

“I see,” Myers said, turning to face the jury. “Well, that could be very significant to this case, as it indicates someone may have stolen those keys so they could plant the gloves and ski mask in Mr. Rodriguez's apartment. By any chance did Miss Lee indicate to you that she had informed Miss Daggett of the missing keys?”

“Objection,” Daggett said calmly.

“Your Honor,” Myers told the judge, “I am establishing that Miss Daggett may have withheld crucial information in her zeal to convict the defendant.”

“Objection overruled,” the judge declared. “You may answer the question, Mr. Hardy.”

“Karen Lee told us,” Joe said, “she had informed Miss Daggett about the missing keys.”

“That'll be all,” Myers said, smiling at Joe.

“I have no cross-examination, Your Honor,” Daggett said from her table. She was only several feet away, and Frank was watching her closely. In spite of Joe's testimony, she seemed remarkably cool, maybe showing just a tiny bit of nervousness by the way she twirled her flower ring.

Next Myers called Karen Lee to the witness stand. He asked if she had overheard the argument between Daggett and Detective O'Roark. Lee did remember the argument. She even remembered a discussion about the serial number of a gun and O'Roark accusing Daggett of withholding evidence.

In spite of numerous objections from Daggett, Lee was able to continue with this testimony.

“Myers is playing this well,” Joe told Frank. “Lee's testimony combined with mine is showing how Daggett plays with the legal system. This could give the jury some serious doubt about convicting Nick, don't you think?”

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