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"Hardy! What's going on here?" Philip Walker's deep, penetrating voice went perfectly
with his appearance. His long dark hair, with just a trace of silver in it, was brushed
straight back, and his square chin showed a deep cleft. He was the perfect Hollywood
casting for a senator-and maybe for president.
At that moment, though, his famous smile was turned off. "Who are these people?" He
glared at Frank and Joe as they were introduced to him. "Your sons! I thought they were
coming out to kill me!"
"Someone else is trying to do that," Frank said. "Come with us and see."
Down in the subbasement, Walker's face went as gray as the plastique when he saw the
bomb at the top of the pillar.
"The police bomb squad will be here any I minute to remove this," Fenton Hardy
said. I "They're also putting out an all-points bulletin for Butler."
The politician was still shaken. "The man in charge of police security was trying to kill
me? It's hard to believe." He looked at Frank and Joe. "I owe you boys an apology."
"Under the circumstances, I'd say it's best to
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cancel the rally," Fenton Hardy went on. "At least we won't have to evacuate all those
people."
"Cancel?" Walker looked up. "We can't do that. "
Fenton Hardy stared at him. "Sir, you've nearly been assassinated. Don't you see-"
"No, you don't see. If I don't go through with the rally, it will be political suicide.
People will only see me running away from terrorists." Walker shook his head. "I've got
to make this speech.
"If you do go through with the rally, it may be physical suicide," Frank said. 'This guy
is really dangerous. He nearly got you once. He nearly got us. The safest place for you is
out of here."
"But the police are looking for him," Walker protested.
"They haven't found him yet," Fenton Hardy pointed out. "For all we know, he could
still be in the mall."
"More likely, he's running for his life," Walker said, sounding as if he were convincing
himself. He turned to the police escort. "Gentlemen, shall we head back upstairs?"
Fenton Hardy stared pen-mouthed at the retreating back of the candidate. Then he
turned to Frank and Joe. "Boys, you've had the most dealings with this Al-Rousasa. Do
you think he's gone?"
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"I think he's still here," Frank said. "He likes to finish his programs."
"I hope he's still here," Joe said venomously. "I want him."
"We'll have half the police detail and all the mall security people searching for him-and
as many more cops as Chief Collig can send," said Fenton Hardy.
"Have them concentrate on the off-limits areas," Frank suggested. "Service stairs,
maintenance corridors, those sort of places. He's studied the plans here thoroughly."
Fenton Hardy's face tightened. "Wonderful. It's a shame Walker isn't an official
candidate yet. At least we'd have Secret Service help."
"Well, Dad," said Frank. "You've got us." "And Callie, Tony, and Chet," Joe added. "We
could circulate on the shopping floors, keep an eye out for him."
Fenton Hardy nodded. "Good idea. We'll work in teams. Chet and I will take the first
shopping level, Tony and Callie will take the second, and you'll take the top floor." He
led the way to the Food Floor and their reinforcements.
Moments later, Frank and Joe stood in the glass-walled elevator, heading up to the
third shopping level. Frank stared out the glass at the crowds of shoppers. "How many
people do you think are here today?" he asked.
"Thousands," Joe answered.
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"And we're supposed to pick one guy out of all of them." Frank's lips tightened. "I
don't like the odds.
"Well, Dad said the cops are sealing the place off-nobody gets in, and everybody is
checked coming out." Joe drummed his fingers on the elevator rail.
"This guy is already in here-and he knows all the good hiding places," Frank said. "It's
like playing hide-and-seek, betting on the game with Philip Walker's life. And Butler has
the home team advantage."
"Al-Rousasa," Joe corrected him. He shrugged. "At least the Bullet has missed so far."
"This is the slowest elevator in Bayport," Frank said, abruptly changing the subject. "I
wish it would hurry. I want to be doing something. "
"You're beginning to sound like me," Joe said, laughing. "I thought you'd be
trying to think your way to a solution."
"We're past the thinking stage," Frank said somberly. "I just hope we catch this guy
before he gets another chance at Walker."
The elevator finally reached its destination. The glass doors opened, and the Hardys
heard the sounds of patriotic music drifting up from the central well.
"Boy, this is a real production," Joe said. "Look at all the stage lights they set up in the
roof." Dozens of red, white, and blue spotlights
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were anchored into the atrium roof of the mall, their cables snaking down to heavy-duty
electrical receptacles at the edges of the central well.
"A real show, all right," Frank agreed sourly. "Let's just hope we can avoid fireworks
for the ending." He looked out over the people walking along the promenade. "Don't they
have anything better to do? How can we check them all out?"
"And what about the people in the stores?" Joe added.
"We better just forget about them," Frank decided. "Let's concentrate on the railing
around the well. He'll have to stand there to do anything. You take the left side, I'll take
the right, and we'll keep circling."
Joe nodded. "Sounds like the best we can do." They set off in opposite directions, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]