A Disturbing Absence
ANOTHER whole day went by. When still no word had come from Mr. Hardy, his wife phoned the New York hotel. She was told that the detective had checked out the day before.
Discouraged and nervous about the new mystery of their father’s disappearance, Frank and Joe found it almost impossible to concentrate on their studies.
Then, the following morning when Mrs. Hardy came to awaken them, she wore a broad smile. “Your father is home!” she said excitedly. “He’s all right but has had a bad time. He’s asleep now and will tell you everything after school.”
The boys were wild with impatience to learn the outcome of his trip, but they were obliged to curb their curiosity.
“Dad must be mighty tired,” Joe remarked, as Mrs. Hardy went downstairs to start breakfast. “I wonder where he came from.”
“Probably he was up all night. When he’s working on a case, he forgets about sleep. Do you think he found out anything?”
“Hope so, Frank. I wish he’d wake up and tell us. I hate to go back to school without knowing.”
But Mr. Hardy had not awakened by the time the boys set out for school, although they lingered until they were in danger of being late. As soon as classes were over, they shattered all records in their race home.
Fenton Hardy was in the living room, and as they rushed in panting, he grinned broadly. He looked refreshed after his long sleep and it was evident that his trip had not been entirely without success, for his manner was cheerful.
“Hello, boys! Sorry I worried you and Mother.”
“What luck, Dad?” asked Frank.
“Good and bad. Here’s the story: I went to the house where Red Jackley was boarding. Although he seemed to be an exemplary parolee, I decided to watch him a while and try to make friends.”
“How could you do that?”
“By taking a room in the same house and pretending to be a fellow criminal.”
“Wow!” Joe cried. “And then?”
“Jackley himself spoiled everything. He got mixed up in a jewel robbery and cleared out of the city. Luckily, I heard him packing, and I trailed him. The police were watching for him and he couldn’t get out of town by plane or bus. He outwitted the police by jumping a freight on the railroad.”
“And you still followed?”
“I lost him two or three times, but fortunately I managed to pick up his trail again. He got out of the city and into upper New York State. Then his luck failed him. A railroad detective recognized Jackley and the chase was on. Up to that time I had been content with just keeping behind him. I had still hoped to pose as a fellow fugitive and win his confidence. But when the pursuit started in earnest, I had to join the officers.”
“And they caught Jackley?”
“Not without great difficulty. Jackley, by the way, was once a railroad man. Strangely enough, he worked not many miles from here. He managed to steal a railroad handcar and got away from us. But he didn’t last long, for the handcar jumped the tracks on a curve and Jackley was badly smashed up.”
“Killed?” Frank asked quickly.
“No. But he’s in a hospital right now and the doctors say he hasn’t much of a chance.”
“He’s under arrest?”
“Oh, yes. He’s being held for the jewel thefts and also for the theft from the actor’s dressing room. But he probably won’t live to answer either charge.”
“Didn’t you find out anything that would connect him with the Tower robbery?”
“Not a thing.”
The boys were disappointed, and their expressions showed it. If Red Jackley died without confessing, the secret of the Tower robbery would die with him. Mr. Robinson might never be cleared. He might be doomed to spend the rest of his life under a cloud, suspected of being a thief.
“Have you talked to Jackley?” Frank asked.
“I didn’t have a chance-he wasn’t conscious.”
“Then you may never be able to get a confession from him.”
Fenton Hardy shrugged. “I may be able to. If Jackley regains consciousness and knows he’s going to die, he may admit everything. I intend to see him in the hospital and ask him about the Tower robbery.”
“Is he far away?”
“Albany. I explained my mission to the doctor in charge and he promised to telephone me as soon as it was possible for Jackley to see anyone.”
“You say he used to work near here?” Joe asked.
“He was once employed by the railroad, and he knows all the country around here well. Then he became mixed up in some thefts from freight cars, and after he got out of jail, turned professional criminal. I suppose he came back here because he is so familiar with this area.”
“I promised to call Mrs. Robinson,” Frank spoke up. “Okay to tell her about Jackley?”
“Yes, it may cheer her up. But ask her not to tell anyone.”
Frank dialed the number and relayed part of his father’s story. The accused man’s wife was overwhelmed and relieved by the news, but promised not to divulge the information. Just as Frank finished the call, the doorbell rang. Frank ushered in the private detective Oscar Smuff.
“Your pa home?” he asked.
“Yes. Come in.” Frank led the way into the living room.
Smuff, although he considered himself a top-notch sleuth, stood in awe of Fenton Hardy. He cleared his throat nervously.
“Good afternoon, Oscar,” said Mr. Hardy pleasantly. “Won’t you sit down?”
Detective Smuff eased himself into an armchair, then glanced inquiringly at the two boys. At once Mr. Hardy said, “Unless your business is very private, I’d like to have my sons stay.”
“Well, I reckon that’ll be all right,” Smuff conceded. “I hear you’re working on this Applegate case.”
“Perhaps I am.”
“You’ve been out of town several days,” Smuff remarked cannily, “so I deduced you must be workin’ on it.”
“Very clever of you, Detective Smuff,” Mr. Hardy said, smiling at his visitor.
Smuff squirmed uneasily in his chair. “I’m workin’ on this case too-I’d like to get that thousand-dollar reward, but I’d share it with you. I was just wonderin’ if you’d found any clues.”
Mr. Hardy’s smile faded. He said, with annoyance, “If I went away, it is my own business. And if I’m working on the Tower robbery, that also is my business. You’ll have to find your own clues, Oscar.”
“Well, now, don’t get on your high horse, Mr. Hardy,’ the visitor remonstrated. “I’m just anxious to get this affair cleared up and I thought we might work together. I heard you were with the officers what chased this here notorious criminal Red Jackley.”
Mr. Hardy gave a perceptible start. He had no idea that news of the capture of Jackley had reached Bayport, much less that his own participation in the chase had become known. The local police must have received the information and somehow Smuff had heard the news.
“What of it?” Mr. Hardy asked in a casual way.
“Did Jackley have anything to do with the Tower case?”
“How should I know?”
“Wasn’t that what you were workin’ on?”
“As I’ve told you, that’s my affair.”
Detective Smuff looked sad. “I guess you just don’t want to cooperate with me, Mr. Hardy. I was thinkin’ of goin’ over to the hospital where this man Jackley is and questionin’ him about the case.”
Mr. Hardy’s lips narrowed into a straight line. “You can’t do that, Oscar. He isn’t conscious. The doctor won’t let you see him.”
“I’m goin’ to try. Jackley’ll come to some time and I want to be on hand. There’s a plane at six o’clock, and I aim to leave my house about five-thirty and catch it.” He thumped his chest in admiration. “Detectives don’t have to show up for a plane till the last minute, eh, Mr. Hardy? Well, I’ll have a talk with Jackley tonight. And I may let you know what he says.”
“Have it your own way,” said Mr. Hardy. “But if you take my advice you’ll not visit the hospital. You’ll just spoil everything. Jackley will talk when the times comes.”
“So there is somethin’ in it!” Smuff said triumphantly. “Well, I’m goin’ over there and get a confession!” With that he arose, stumped out of the room, and left the house.