Read Online The Prime-Time Crime by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online

Frank holding the lamp, the four teenagers hurried across the basement and up the stairs.
    Joe plunged the key into the lock and rattled the doorknob. The door popped open.
    â€œThank goodness!” Debbie cried as she stumbled into the hallway. “That smoke made my eyes sting.”
    â€œIt would have done more damage than that if we’d been down there any longer,” Joe said, pocketing the key.
    â€œLook at this,” Frank said, pointing at a closet door to his right. It was closed, but wisps of smokewere coming out from underneath it. He pulled the door open. Inside the closet was a metal trash can. The can was covered tightly, and a wide rubber tube ran from a hole in the lid to an air vent set low in the closet wall.
    Joe touched the side of the lid and immediately jerked back his hand. “It’s hot! There’s got to be a fire in there.”
    Frank looked desperately up and down the hallway. Finally he spotted an emergency fire case about ten feet away. He broke the glass and pulled out the ax inside. A fire alarm began to ring.
    â€œSomebody get the extinguisher!” he cried, rushing to the trash can and knocking the lid off with a clean swipe of the ax. Thick greasy smoke and bright tongues of flame leaped out of the can.
    With the fire extinguisher in hand, Joe ran to the trash can and sprayed it until the flames began to sputter. After a few minutes the fire was out, but the hallway was filled with smoke.
    A pair of guards had rushed down the hall in response to the fire alarm. The Hardys explained what had happened, and the guards inspected the trash can.
    â€œWell, that’s obviously where the smoke in the basement came from,” Frank said. “Now if we only knew who started it.”
    Steve began to cough. “I need fresh air,” he gasped. He rushed to the end of the hallway and pushed open the door that led out to the parkinglot. Then he stepped back inside and motioned to the others.
    â€œCome here,” he said. “Quick.”
    Debbie hurried to the door and peered outside. “What is it?”
    Steve pointed at a black limousine and said, “There’s Ted Whalen.”
    Joe joined the pair and looked out the door, craning to see over the top of Steve’s red head. Ted Whalen stood next to the large car. Two heavyset men in dark suits stood beside him. One was short and muscular, the other was tall and broad-shouldered.
    â€œI don’t like the looks of those guys,” Debbie said in a low voice. “I bet they were the ones who grabbed Clarence. Let’s go ask them a few questions.”
    Joe grabbed Debbie’s arm as she started out the door. “If Ted Whalen sees you out there, he’ll call the police.”
    â€œNo way,” Steve said. “Criminals don’t call the police. They’re afraid of the police.”
    â€œFrom the looks of those big guys he’s got with him, he may not need to call the police,” Frank observed.
    â€œHe could have one of those gorillas sit on you until you’re too old to be a problem,” Joe said to Steve.
    â€œAnd I’d like to point out that being in the company of people who look like thugs isn’t necessarilyevidence of a crime,” Frank said. “Maybe they’re relatives or friends.”
    â€œWant to bet?” Steve challenged, and then pointed out the door. “Look at that.”
    As Ted Whalen slid into the passenger seat of the black car, the short, stocky man reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a gun. He checked to see if it was loaded, then put it back in his coat pocket and slid into the rear seat next to the tall man. The chauffeur, who had been sitting in the car all along, revved the engine and began to drive away.
    â€œA gun!” Debbie cried. “You can’t say that doesn’t look suspicious.”
    â€œThey’re getting away!” Steve shouted. “We’ve got to follow