Read Online Countdown to Terror by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
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screwdriver."
"What do you need a screwdriver for?" Joe asked. Then, when he figured it out, he looked at Frank's determined face, appalled. "Oh, no," he said. "Wait a minute. You're not going to open this thing, are you?"
"Just the top half," Frank admitted.
Joe stared. "You've finally lost it completely. We know what's in there. Who are you expecting to find, Count Dracula?"
"We don't know what's in there," Frank replied. "But I think we ought to find out." He held out his hand for the knife.
Joe Hardy finally dug it out and handed it over. "This coffin has spent weeks on some freighter," he said. "Remember what the manager said about the relatives waiting. Are you sure you want to open it? I mean, after all, what would you expect someone to ship to a funeral parlor?"
"You're forgetting that these guys aren't normal funeral directors." Frank bent over and reached under the sides of the coffin, feeling for the screws that held the top closed. "They shoot guns and leave bombs around. That's not normal—unless Halifax has a shortage of dead people and they're drumming up business."
"It all sounds weird to me." Joe shook his head in disbelief.
"No, it all makes a horrible kind of sense," Frank insisted as he worked on the screws. "A phony funeral home would be a perfect cover. I mean, who would bother a mortician? And if he has the odd body to get rid of, it couldn't be easier — "
He grunted as a tight screw resisted him for a second. "And if you were smuggling things into a country, what better way than in a coffin? Who'd check it out?" A little more work, then Frank straightened up suddenly. "That's it. The top should lift off."
Joe stepped away from the coffin. "What if you're wrong? This could be pretty gross." He shuddered. "Horrible, I mean."
"Don't be silly." Still, Frank took a deep breath before he swung the top open.
He looked in and quickly shut the lid. The coffin wasn't empty — it did contain a body.
"See, I told you, "Joe said.
But Frank slowly eased the lid up again for another look. This time he reached in and dug his fingernail into the face of the body.
"Have you gone crazy?" Joe said louder than he'd intended.
"Nope. And this isn't skin under my nail. It's wax. At first glance the dummy looks real, but it's made of wax."
When he pulled down the blanket covering the body, Frank found a little door in the left-hand side of its chest. Joe stared. The door was right where the heart would be on a living person.
"This poor guy isn't getting a very comfortable final rest." Joe tried a joke to cover up for his earlier nervousness. "I thought most coffins had padded silk linings. Look at this." He ran a finger along the dull, grayish black metal that lined the box. His fingernail scratched a line in it. "What is this stuff, anyway?"
Frank scratched at it, too, managing to break a thin piece off. "Lead foil, I think." He frowned, then quickly tossed the piece back into the coffin.
Meanwhile, Joe had pulled his camera out of his pocket. "I guess we ought to take some pictures," he said. "What do you think? Full face or profile? Should we shoot him lying down or sitting up?" he asked, his sense of humor returning.
Frank bent down, reaching across the coffin to the dummy's left side. "At least we should take out whatever's inside."
He hesitated a second. Something very unpleasant could be hidden inside the dummy.
Then he braced himself, grabbed the little handle on the door, and pulled.
"Huh!" Joe said, disappointed. "I thought we'd find jewels or something. But that — I don't even know what that is."
Tucked deep inside the cavity in the dummy's chest was a small metal cylinder, maybe two inches high and one inch wide. The outside was highly polished.
"Looks like stainless steel," Joe said. "I don't see any openings. Maybe it twists apart." He set his camera down on the dummy's chest and started to reach into the opening for the mysterious metal container.
Frank's hand moved like a
"What do you need a screwdriver for?" Joe asked. Then, when he figured it out, he looked at Frank's determined face, appalled. "Oh, no," he said. "Wait a minute. You're not going to open this thing, are you?"
"Just the top half," Frank admitted.
Joe stared. "You've finally lost it completely. We know what's in there. Who are you expecting to find, Count Dracula?"
"We don't know what's in there," Frank replied. "But I think we ought to find out." He held out his hand for the knife.
Joe Hardy finally dug it out and handed it over. "This coffin has spent weeks on some freighter," he said. "Remember what the manager said about the relatives waiting. Are you sure you want to open it? I mean, after all, what would you expect someone to ship to a funeral parlor?"
"You're forgetting that these guys aren't normal funeral directors." Frank bent over and reached under the sides of the coffin, feeling for the screws that held the top closed. "They shoot guns and leave bombs around. That's not normal—unless Halifax has a shortage of dead people and they're drumming up business."
"It all sounds weird to me." Joe shook his head in disbelief.
"No, it all makes a horrible kind of sense," Frank insisted as he worked on the screws. "A phony funeral home would be a perfect cover. I mean, who would bother a mortician? And if he has the odd body to get rid of, it couldn't be easier — "
He grunted as a tight screw resisted him for a second. "And if you were smuggling things into a country, what better way than in a coffin? Who'd check it out?" A little more work, then Frank straightened up suddenly. "That's it. The top should lift off."
Joe stepped away from the coffin. "What if you're wrong? This could be pretty gross." He shuddered. "Horrible, I mean."
"Don't be silly." Still, Frank took a deep breath before he swung the top open.
He looked in and quickly shut the lid. The coffin wasn't empty — it did contain a body.
"See, I told you, "Joe said.
But Frank slowly eased the lid up again for another look. This time he reached in and dug his fingernail into the face of the body.
"Have you gone crazy?" Joe said louder than he'd intended.
"Nope. And this isn't skin under my nail. It's wax. At first glance the dummy looks real, but it's made of wax."
When he pulled down the blanket covering the body, Frank found a little door in the left-hand side of its chest. Joe stared. The door was right where the heart would be on a living person.
"This poor guy isn't getting a very comfortable final rest." Joe tried a joke to cover up for his earlier nervousness. "I thought most coffins had padded silk linings. Look at this." He ran a finger along the dull, grayish black metal that lined the box. His fingernail scratched a line in it. "What is this stuff, anyway?"
Frank scratched at it, too, managing to break a thin piece off. "Lead foil, I think." He frowned, then quickly tossed the piece back into the coffin.
Meanwhile, Joe had pulled his camera out of his pocket. "I guess we ought to take some pictures," he said. "What do you think? Full face or profile? Should we shoot him lying down or sitting up?" he asked, his sense of humor returning.
Frank bent down, reaching across the coffin to the dummy's left side. "At least we should take out whatever's inside."
He hesitated a second. Something very unpleasant could be hidden inside the dummy.
Then he braced himself, grabbed the little handle on the door, and pulled.
"Huh!" Joe said, disappointed. "I thought we'd find jewels or something. But that — I don't even know what that is."
Tucked deep inside the cavity in the dummy's chest was a small metal cylinder, maybe two inches high and one inch wide. The outside was highly polished.
"Looks like stainless steel," Joe said. "I don't see any openings. Maybe it twists apart." He set his camera down on the dummy's chest and started to reach into the opening for the mysterious metal container.
Frank's hand moved like a
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