Read Online The Great Airport Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online

might not know anything about his mysterious behavior, nor have heard any talk about Clint Hill’s ghost. In that case, the boys did not want to upset her.
    â€œWe’re working on a job for Lance Peterson,” Joe ad-libbed, “and we wanted to ask Mr. Zimm some questions.”
    â€œHe left for work about an hour ago,” his wife said indignantly.
    â€œThen we’ll see him there,” Frank told her.
    She demanded that the boys leave at once. Glad to get away, they did not argue and returned to their car. Frank started for the Stanwide hangar.
    â€œI could see by her face that Mrs. Zimm didn’t know whether to believe us or not,” Frank commented.
    Joe agreed. “I hope that when she tells Zimm we were here, it doesn’t put him on guard.”
    â€œIt won’t make much difference one way or the other,” Frank observed. “Either Zimm knows we suspect him of something—which means our prowling around wouldn’t surprise him—or else he might really believe we came out to ask him some routine questions.”
    When the boys arrived at the airport, they went at once to the Stanwide hangar. Lance Peterson’s office door was locked. As Frank and Joe strolled back across the hangar, they saw Jerry Madden come out of the operations room.
    â€œI’ve got a message for you!” he called to the Hardys. “Mr. Allen has been trying to find you. He wants you to call him right away.”
    Frank asked Jerry if he knew where Peterson had gone. Jerry said No, Peterson had taken the day off. Frank went to telephone Mr. Allen.
    â€œWe are sending a large shipment of parts containing platinum to the Sun-Plat Tool Company in California tomorrow morning,” the executive told him. “Our company cargo plane will make the delivery. Lance Peterson and Aaron Lieber will be flying it. Because of the great value of this shipment, and the trouble we’ve been having, as an extra precaution I would like you boys to follow in another plane. Can you do it?”
    The Hardys excitedly agreed. “Don’t worry about arranging for a pilot and plane—we’ll handle that ourselves,” Frank said.
    A short time later he and Joe were in the operations room of Ace Air Service, discussing the trip with Randy Watson.
    â€œThe Stanwide cargo plane is a pretty fast ship,” Randy said. “We don’t have any equipment at Ace that would keep up with her. I’ll have to lease a special plane.”
    â€œGo ahead and make the arrangements,” Frank told him. “But keep it quiet.”
    On the way home the Hardys stopped at police headquarters to ask them to check the license plate number of the car Joe had seen Lieber jump into. Detective Lieutenant Obels, a determined but pleasant man, sent the number to the motor vehicle department by police teletype. In a little less than an hour Lieutenant Obels called the boys at their home.
    â€œHere it is!” the officer announced. “The report says the car belongs to a Mr. Art Rodax.”
    Frank thanked the detective, then hung up. “Art Rodax, our former boss!” he exclaimed, repeating the news to Joe.
    â€œGood night! He’s a pal of Lieber!” Joe cried out. “Well, we’re rounding up quite a group of suspects!”
    Hoping to turn up another clue, the boys began calling all the camera stores listed in the telephone book. Not one of the shops reported having seen the stolen camera.
    At five o‘clock Mr. Freeman called Frank. The camera-shop owner said that the developed pictures had just arrived. “Mr. Williams, the name under which the pictures were left, has already telephoned that he’s coming by for them.”
    â€œWe’ll be right over,” said Frank. “If Williams shows up first, try to stall him.”
    â€œOkay.”
    When the boys drove up to the camera shop, they saw a large, burly man who seemed to be arguing with Mr.