Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
Joe glared at the list one more time, then agreed. "You're right. I just hope Lisa has better luck. With her experience as a reporter, she may be able to pick out something that looks fishy."
"Callie may notice something we're missing, too," Frank responded quickly. "Especially with Liz to help her. Liz knows the city inside out."
Just then they heard a scuffling sound at the front door.
Frank and Joe exchanged looks. They knew what the other was thinking. There was only one person who might be coming to call on them at that time of night.
The man in the black stocking mask. The one who had been stalking them.
"I'LL CHECK HIM out through the peephole, then swing the door open fast," Frank said. "You stand next to the door and jump him."
"Right," said Joe. "Wait a sec while I get some insurance out of the hall closet."
Joe opened the closet door and pulled out a baseball bat. "Didn't think I'd need this baby again till spring." The doorbell rang again as Joe positioned himself against the wall next to the door. As Frank flipped open the peephole his bat was at the ready.
"Watch out, he's sure to be in disguise," Joe cautioned.
"Yeah, the man with a thousand faces," Frank said as he peered out.
Then he grabbed the door handle and yanked the door open.
At the same time, he shouted to Joe, "Hold it. Don't swing!"
Joe froze, barely able to check his swing. Then his mouth dropped open as he saw the person he'd been about to clobber.
"Lisa," he gasped.
"Help me," she said as she stooped to lift up the limp body fallen beside the door.
It was Frank's turn to gasp. "Oh, no! Not again!" He rushed to help Lisa carry Callie into the house.
"I think she'll be okay," said Lisa. "Her pulse is fine. Nothing seems broken."
Together they laid her gently on the living room couch. Frank stacked pillows under her feet, so that blood would circulate to her brain and speed her return to consciousness.
"What hit her?" asked Frank.
"The same thing that hit me," said Lisa, gingerly touching the back of her neck. "But before I explain, let's tend to Callie."
"I'm one step ahead of you," said Joe, returning from the kitchen with a bowl of ice and a wet dishcloth. "First you this afternoon, now Callie. I'm already a pro at this."
As Joe applied the ice and wet towel to Callie's wrists and forehead, Lisa told the Hardys what happened.
"He must have been hiding behind a tree waiting for us," she said. "I mean, when I first saw Bayport, I thought it was really charming to have a town with streets lined with big old oak trees. I didn't see them as natural spots for ambush. I didn't figure Bayport as a jungle."
"I never have, either," said Frank. "But I'm changing my mind fast." He looked down anxiously at Callie. She stirred slightly, and he breathed more easily. He turned to Lisa. "Sorry. Go on. What happened next?"
"He was as fast as lightning," she said. "He chopped me on the back of the neck and I went down. Then he hit Callie. But he moved too fast for his own good. He didn't hit me squarely. When he turned back to check on me, I was already on my knees, pulling the gun from my bag. He saw the gun, and he turned and ran."
"Great work," said Joe.
Lisa shook her head. "Not so great. I mean, I got the gun out and he was still within range — but I couldn't pull the trigger. I told myself I should, but I couldn't."
"Look, don't feel bad, it's understandable," said Joe sympathetically.
"I guess you're right," said Lisa. "But I'll bet you would have."
"Well, anyway, I plan to stick close to you from now on, with that goon still on the loose," promised Joe.
"Thanks, Joe," said Lisa. Their eyes met and locked.
On Frank's face there was a troubled look.
"So this guy got away again?"
"Yes, and no," Lisa answered, turning to face him. "I've given you the bad news; now I'll give you the good."
"You saw who he was," said Joe.
"Not that good," said Lisa. "I didn't get a look at his face, just at his back. When my finger froze on the trigger, the only thing I could do was chase him and try to capture him. I followed him down the street. He passed a parked car and I saw him hesitate a second as if he were thinking about getting in. But I was too close. He picked up speed and tore around a corner. By the time I made it to the corner he had disappeared."
She shrugged. "I felt really bad, but I had to hurry back to Callie. As I went by the parked car, though, I remembered how he hesitated so I looked in. In the backseat I saw a suit, and a shirt and tie. It had to be his car. He must have changed out of normal clothes to do his muggings, then back into them when he made his getaway."
"Makes sense," said Frank, nodding.
"Made enough sense for me to take a closer look," said Lisa. "I used the gun to smash the car window, then I reached in and unlocked the door.
If I was wrong, I figured I'd leave some money to cover the damage. But I wasn't. I opened the glove compartment, and—well, look for yourself."
She reached in her shoulder bag and pulled it out.
The black book.
"Let's get to work on it," said Frank eagerly. Then he paused. "But first we should stake out that car. Maybe we can catch the mugger when he returns for it."
Lisa shook her head. "No luck. As soon as I got back to Callie and made sure she wasn't seriously hurt, I went back to the car to do just that. But the guy beat me to it. The car was gone."
"Then this book is all we've got," said Frank. "We'd better make the most of it."
"Let me at it," called a voice from the couch. Callie was sitting up and looking at the black book like a cat at a mouse.
"Hey, take it easy," said Frank with concern. "How do you feel?"
"Lousy," Callie replied. She put a hand to her head. "Listen, we have to catch this guy. I refuse to go through this every day. Oh, I have to call my mom before she gets upset."
"Lie down," Frank told her as he went to dial Mrs. Shaw.
"Don't worry, I'm basically okay," said Callie when he returned. "I'm not going to let a little thing like being knocked out give you a head start on decoding that book — especially since I think I know how to do it."
"What do you mean?" asked Frank.
"I'll show you," said Callie. "Do you have your old American lit textbook handy?"
"Up in my room," said Frank. "But what — ?"
"Get it, and I'll show you," said Callie.
"Look, this is no time for a literary discussion," said Joe. "This is a time for Frank's computer and then some fast action."
"Then let's not waste time arguing," Callie said, refusing to be argued with. "I know what I'm doing. Frank, get me that book."
Frank returned with the textbook and Callie flipped swiftly through the pages to find what she wanted.
"Here it is," she announced. "A story by Edgar Allan Poe. 'The Gold Bug.' Poe wrote great detective stories," said Callie. " 'The Gold Bug' is one of them. In it, a detective has to break a code. And Poe describes exactly how to do it."
"But that story is so old," protested Joe.
"What does it matter?" said Callie as she scanned the story to find the passage she wanted. "The basic principles remain the same." Then she leaned forward. "Here's what I'm looking for. First Poe shows the frequency with which certain letters appear in the English language. Then he shows how to use the frequency to break a number code, which is what we have here."
"Partially a number code," Frank said, reminding her. "Each entry also has a small group of letters."
"Right. That is a problem," said Callie.
Then Frank's expression brightened. "But if we're talking about a list of payoffs, the letters could represent numbers—the amount of each bribe. Then the numbers would still represent the letters spelling the names of the people doing the bribing."
"All right, Frank." Callie grinned. "Now let's see what Mr. Poe has to say about getting those names."
"How about giving Poe a helping hand—with my computer," said Frank. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He had a real interest in artificial intelligence. I read how he once exposed a phony chess-playing robot." He shook his head. "But I can't picture him tapping out 'The Raven' on a word processor."
Joe grimaced at their enthusiasm. "Don't get lost in your fun and games — we still have to translate all this into action."
"How could we forget with you around?" said Frank. "Let's get upstairs and warm up my computer."
It took him twenty minutes to program Poe's code-breaking system into his computer. He tapped the final key and said, "I hope this works. It's not a bad system, but it's not super-sophisticated."
"Neither was Morrison," said Callie. "I'm sure this approach will handle anything he could dream up."
"I'm sure it will, too," said Lisa. "You guys are very impressive. My only question is, which entry do you analyze first?"
Frank and Callie opened their mouths to answer at the same time, then looked at each other.
"Ladies first," said Frank.
"No, it's your computer," said Callie.
"Come on," Joe said impatiently.
"Okay," said Frank. "I figure we should check out the entry that appears the most times in the book. It probably represents one of the biggest bribers."
"As a matter of fact, I've already done it," said Callie. "This one comes up the most often." She pointed to an entry in the black book.
"One step ahead of me as usual," said Frank.
"As you said, ladies first," said Callie.
Frank typed the entry into his computer for the first analysis, then punched the command button.
He and the others leaned forward to watch the computer screen. In a second, various letter clusters appeared on the screen as the computer substituted the most frequently used letters of the alphabet for the most frequently used numbers in the code.
E E
A E
O E
E E
A E
A E
Joe grinned immediately. "We had to go through all this mumbo-jumbo to come up with something I had already figured out." He triumphantly jabbed his finger at the computer's second choice.
"Huh?" said Frank.
"Remember what I said earlier when we were studying the list of city contracts? I knew it was Acme Waste Disposal Corporation all the time."
"I hate to admit it," Frank said, "but I think you're right." He turned to Callie and Lisa. "Acme Waste Disposal Corporation was one of the firms that got big contracts from Bayport in the past year."
"Then there's no question that it's the one we should investigate first," said Lisa. "Hey, you're quite a guy, Joe." Her eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Well I just do my best to be great," said Joe.
"And so modest, too," said Callie.
"Now I hope you have the answer to another question," said Frank. "A big, nasty question." "What's that?" asked Joe. "If this bunch plays as rough as we think they do," asked Frank, "how do we go after Acme Waste without them wasting us?"
IT WAS A busy morning for Mac Jessup, vice-president of Acme Waste Disposal Corporation. Mac Jessup was the person at Acme who gave the workers their instructions and the one to whom anyone looking for work was sent.
He was happy to see the first two job applicants that day. Business was growing, and they always needed new employees. Acme not only had the city contract, but it also had managed to get many private businesses to sign up for its services. Their sales pitch included the threat of possible fires and broken kneecaps if Acme didn't get the work.
The two job hunters who sat before him that morning looked like good prospects. They had strong backs and weak minds.
"I got no time for school," said the younger of the two, who said his name was Joe Johnson. He actually did feel bad about cutting school that day. But his case was too important. "Nothing they teach you there's gonna do you any good. Besides, all that reading makes my head hurt."
"Yeah," added his friend, Frank Davis. "I wanna get out and make bucks. Real bucks. And I don't care how dirty my hands get doing it."
"Well, kids, we pay well," said Mac, looking them over. "But we expect a few things in return."
"Don't worry 'bout that, man," said Joe. "Feel this." He flexed his arm to make a muscle that bulged against his grease-stained denim work shirt.
"We ain't afraid of hard work," Frank said. "We'll really put out if the money's right."
Mac smiled, revealing a set of crooked teeth that he meant to have straightened when he got his Christmas bonus that year. It would probably be a bundle. Acme Waste Disposal was really making money. And kids like these two could help it make even more.
"I'm not talking about muscle power," Mac told them. "I'm talking about brains. Enough brains to keep your mouth shut about your work. There's some stuff we don't like our competition or any other kind of snooper to know. It's what you call your corporate security."
Joe blinked, clearly trying to digest the words. "Oh, yeah, sure, corporate security. Yeah, sure."
Frank gave him a superior look. "Hey, dumb-bell, he means, keep your lips buttoned if anybody asks you questions about anything."
Joe brightened. "You mean, like when the cops hauled us in and — " He shut his mouth when Frank punched him in the shoulder.
"Hey, Joe here don't mean it like it sounds," Frank apologized to Mac. "He was just giving you, like, a for - instance. We never had nothing to do with the cops, cross my heart."
Mac's smile grew even bigger. These two were perfect. "Don't worry about that, kids. We're real broad-minded about stuff like that here. You'll find that out soon enough."
"Hey, you mean we're hired?" asked Joe.
" 'Course that's what he means, jerko," Frank assured him.
"Ten dollars an hour—and twenty for night work," said Mac. "We get a lot of night work."
"Great," said Joe. "Since we cut out of school, I like sleeping late."
"When do we start?" asked Frank.
"Today," said Mac. "Come on, I'll show you the ropes."
But before he could lead them out of his office, another visitor baiged in.