hand and waved the document like a white flag of surrender. Joe snatched it away and handed it to Callie. He dragged the desk off Arno and said, "Okay, you can get up now—but slowly."
Arno grabbed on to a leg of the toppled desk and hauled himself up. "That insurance policy doesn't prove anything," he said. "It's common business practice. McCoy was my star attraction. The deals I make with cities like Bayport guarantee that McCoy will be there for the race. Without McCoy, I could lose a lot of money."
"So why'd you pull a gun on us?" Joe asked roughly.
"Look, kid," the promoter snapped. "I'm getting tired of your questions. You say you didn't break in here. You say you were just passing by and found my office this way. I'll take your word for it—but don't press your luck."
He glared at them. "Now get out of here before I change my mind—and leave the policy and the gun here. It would be real unfortunate if the police found you with a stolen firearm."
Joe took the document and the pistol from Callie. He deftly removed the clip and cleared the chamber, ejecting the bullet that had been loaded and ready to fire. "You go ahead, Callie," he said. "I'll be out in a minute."
· He handed the piece of paper to Arno and tossed the unloaded weapon into the farthest corner of the office. "You be real careful where you aim that thing," Joe said as he stormed out the door. "Next time I might just make you mince meat." " "I still don't trust him," Joe muttered to Callie · as they walked away. "But I don't have any evidence!"
"You ever wonder why girls always lug around big heavy purses wherever they go?" Callie asked.
"Huh?" Joe frowned. "What's that got to do with — "
"It's just in case they come across some evidence," Callie grinned, reaching into her hand-bag and pulling out a videocassette. "While you were reading files, I was reading tape labels.
Check this one out."
Joe squinted in the dark trying to read the handwritten scrawl on the side of the plastic case. He stopped under a streetlight and held up the cassette to catch the light. " 'Master tape,' " he read aloud. " 'Angus McCoy Bayport Grand Prix Time Trial.'"
"Maybe this is what whoever broke into Arno's office was looking for," Joe mused. "But why didn't they take it?"
"Because they couldn't find it," Callie answered. "It wasn't on the shelves with the other tapes. It was in the VCR."
Joe just stared at Callie. "I can't believe it," he said. "Frank and I have both been so busy trying to unearth clues that we forgot Arno had the whole thing on videotape!"
Chapter 9
It was almost noon the next day before Joe Hardy stumbled out of bed and staggered downstairs, looking for his brother. Joe hadn't meant to oversleep, but it had been a long night.
Frank wasn't anywhere in sight. Only his aunt Gertrude was home, puttering in the garden. "Is Frank around?" Joe asked. "There's something I want to show him." "You just missed him," Gertrude said, looking up from her tomato plants. "Callie picked him up a while ago, and they drove over to the hospital to see that nice Cohen boy. Poor thing. Did you hear what happened to him last night?" "Yeah, I kind of heard something about it," Joe said evasively. If his aunt ever found out that Frank and he had almost gotten killed saving Phil Cohen from the fire, she'd have a heart attack on the spot. -
"I think I'll go over to the hospital, too," Joe told his aunt. He dug in his hip pocket, fished out the keys to the van, and loped across the lawn to the driveway.
"Oh, that reminds me," Gertrude called after him. "Your brother told me to tell you to take the van and meet him at the hospital."
Joe turned and smiled at her. "Say, Aunt Gertrude, you know what I think I'll do?"
"What?"
"I think I'll take the van and meet Frank at the hospital."
"You do that," she said, nodding as she plucked a ripe tomato and dropped it into her basket.
Joe drove to the hospital by the fastest routes. He wanted to make sure Phil was okay
Arno grabbed on to a leg of the toppled desk and hauled himself up. "That insurance policy doesn't prove anything," he said. "It's common business practice. McCoy was my star attraction. The deals I make with cities like Bayport guarantee that McCoy will be there for the race. Without McCoy, I could lose a lot of money."
"So why'd you pull a gun on us?" Joe asked roughly.
"Look, kid," the promoter snapped. "I'm getting tired of your questions. You say you didn't break in here. You say you were just passing by and found my office this way. I'll take your word for it—but don't press your luck."
He glared at them. "Now get out of here before I change my mind—and leave the policy and the gun here. It would be real unfortunate if the police found you with a stolen firearm."
Joe took the document and the pistol from Callie. He deftly removed the clip and cleared the chamber, ejecting the bullet that had been loaded and ready to fire. "You go ahead, Callie," he said. "I'll be out in a minute."
· He handed the piece of paper to Arno and tossed the unloaded weapon into the farthest corner of the office. "You be real careful where you aim that thing," Joe said as he stormed out the door. "Next time I might just make you mince meat." " "I still don't trust him," Joe muttered to Callie · as they walked away. "But I don't have any evidence!"
"You ever wonder why girls always lug around big heavy purses wherever they go?" Callie asked.
"Huh?" Joe frowned. "What's that got to do with — "
"It's just in case they come across some evidence," Callie grinned, reaching into her hand-bag and pulling out a videocassette. "While you were reading files, I was reading tape labels.
Check this one out."
Joe squinted in the dark trying to read the handwritten scrawl on the side of the plastic case. He stopped under a streetlight and held up the cassette to catch the light. " 'Master tape,' " he read aloud. " 'Angus McCoy Bayport Grand Prix Time Trial.'"
"Maybe this is what whoever broke into Arno's office was looking for," Joe mused. "But why didn't they take it?"
"Because they couldn't find it," Callie answered. "It wasn't on the shelves with the other tapes. It was in the VCR."
Joe just stared at Callie. "I can't believe it," he said. "Frank and I have both been so busy trying to unearth clues that we forgot Arno had the whole thing on videotape!"
Chapter 9
It was almost noon the next day before Joe Hardy stumbled out of bed and staggered downstairs, looking for his brother. Joe hadn't meant to oversleep, but it had been a long night.
Frank wasn't anywhere in sight. Only his aunt Gertrude was home, puttering in the garden. "Is Frank around?" Joe asked. "There's something I want to show him." "You just missed him," Gertrude said, looking up from her tomato plants. "Callie picked him up a while ago, and they drove over to the hospital to see that nice Cohen boy. Poor thing. Did you hear what happened to him last night?" "Yeah, I kind of heard something about it," Joe said evasively. If his aunt ever found out that Frank and he had almost gotten killed saving Phil Cohen from the fire, she'd have a heart attack on the spot. -
"I think I'll go over to the hospital, too," Joe told his aunt. He dug in his hip pocket, fished out the keys to the van, and loped across the lawn to the driveway.
"Oh, that reminds me," Gertrude called after him. "Your brother told me to tell you to take the van and meet him at the hospital."
Joe turned and smiled at her. "Say, Aunt Gertrude, you know what I think I'll do?"
"What?"
"I think I'll take the van and meet Frank at the hospital."
"You do that," she said, nodding as she plucked a ripe tomato and dropped it into her basket.
Joe drove to the hospital by the fastest routes. He wanted to make sure Phil was okay
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