Infinity Clue Part 4

A Fortune in Bad Luck Frank, Joe, and Chet were stunned by the words of the policeman, who stood before them. He flipped his badge at the trio, identifying himself as Detective Barnes from the local precinct.

"Under arrest for what?" Joe blurted.

"We have reason to believe you stole a valuable gem from the museum last night," the detective told Chet, then turned his piercing hazel eyes toward the Hardys. "And we have reason to believe you two conspired in the theft!"

"Why would we want to steal any-" Frank began, but was cut off by the angry curator.

"I don't know who you kids are, but you sure tried to pull a fast one on me with that phony story,"

Boswell said acidly.

"We don't have any idea what you're talking about!" Joe cried in defense. "I'm Joe Hardy. He's my brother Frank, and this is Chet Morton, just as we told you yesterday! And we didn't steal any gem!"

"Hold on, Joe," Frank said calmly. He then addressed Detective Barnes in an even tone. "Please explain what this is all about."

"The Faith diamond, which is worth a small fortune, was stolen from its display case sometime during the night," Barnes began. "Curator Boswell tells me you three were caught breaking into the museum yesterday morning. After convincing him that you were involved in an investigation of some kind, you were given a key to the bas.e.m.e.nt entrance and permission to spend the night here."

"I was on a stakeout," Chet agreed.

The police detective continued. "Late in the evening, Chet Morton was caught acting suspiciously in the museum. He was taken to the police station and subsequently released. This morning, the diamond was missing."

"And to think I was fool enough to tell them the security system had been disconnected," Boswell growled. "As far as I know, you three faked the whole thing, names and all. Now let's see some identifications."

The boys pulled out their driver's licenses and handed them to Barnes.

"So that's what that guy was up to last night," Joe whispered to his brother.

"Sure seems like it," Frank agreed: While the police looked at their licenses, Frank told Detective Barnes about Chet's encounter with the mysterious night visitor.

"I still have to take you to the station," Barnes informed them. "Those licenses could be stolen, and you're the only suspects we have at this point. Also, I'd like you to fill me in on this investigation you claim to be on, as well as on the man you say broke in here last night."

Before leaving the museum, the boys were searched by one of the uniformed policemen, then were led to a waiting squad car. Several-reporters tried to question them as they climbed in, but they made no comment.

At the precinct station, Detective Barnes questioned Frank, Joe, and Chet at length about the reasons for their visit to Washington. He then called the Hardy home in Bayport to confirm the story.

Aunt Gertrude answered the phone, and not only corroborated the boys' testimony, but indignantly accused the detective of slandering her nephews. She had Barnes on the line for five minutes, letting him know Frank and Joe were fine boys, good students, upstanding citizens, and had probably solved more cases than he had in his whole career. The boys could hear the excited voice of their aunt and had difficulty suppressing grins.

Finally, with a groan of relief, the police detective handed the receiver to Frank. "Your aunt wants to talk to you."

"Thanks for the character reference, Aunty," Frank said as he took the phone.

"Don't 'Aunty' me!" came Gertrude Hardy's no-nonsense voice. "What do you mean by smearing our good name up and down the East Coast?"

"What did you say?" Frank raised his voice in alarm.

"I just heard it on the news!" Aunt Gertrude went on. "Sons of well-known detective, Fenton Hardy, suspected of stealing Faith diamond from Smithsonian. I nearly fell off my chair!"

Frank a.s.sured his aunt that the matter was being cleared up and that they should be free from all suspicion soon.

"I suggest you see that you are," Aunt Gertrude said abruptly. "And please try to be more careful from now on."

Once Aunt Gertrude was off the line, Detective Barnes offered to release the boys, provided they would not leave the city without notifying him. "You understand you are still under suspicion," he added.

The Hardys promised to keep in touch, and the detective took them back to the museum, where they had left Fritz's car.

"I've always been a big fan of your father's," said Barnes as they drove through the city. "And I hear that you two do quite a job following in his footsteps."

Frank and Joe thanked the detective and waited for him to get to the point he seemed to be making.

Barnes continued. "As long as you are still under suspicion, I thought you might be interested in helping me with this case. I could use you, and the sooner we get to the bottom of this, the sooner your names will be cleared."

"We were thinking the same thing," said Joe. "Are there any clues at this point as to who might have done it?"

"Nothing. Chet's description of a man of medium height and build who wore a ski mask is of little help.

But there is an interesting story behind the gem that would be worth looking into."

The detective glanced at Frank and Joe to make sure he had aroused their curiosity, then continued. "The Faith diamond is reputed to bring bad luck to its owners. It was recently acquired by the museum through the will of a man named Arthur Rutlidge. He was a wealthy horse breeder who had been having a devastating run of bad luck with his racehorses. He disappeared in a storm while boating, and presumably drowned."

"Do you think the diamond brought him all that bad luck?" Chet asked.

The detective grinned. "I doubt it. But he willed the stone to the Smithsonian just prior to his disappearance. That's the part I find curious."

"Did Rutlidge know Curator Boswell?" Frank queried.

"I believe they knew each other well," the policeman answered. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm not sure," Frank said thoughtfully. "It's odd Rutlidge would leave the gem to the Smithsonian so shortly before his death, as you said."

Detective Barnes dropped the young sleuths off at the museum, where Fritz's car was still parked.

"Hey, we never had a chance to ask Simmons what those words 'low clay' meant!" Joe said, snapping his fingers.

"We'd better leave that one alone for now," Frank answered. "I doubt either Boswell or Simmons will be very cooperative with us until we clear up the question of the stolen diamond."

The boys were quiet for a moment, then Frank said, "I wonder if Mr. Boswell knows more about this than he lets on. He seemed particularly anxious about the theft, and he was a good friend of Arthur Rutlidge's. Something might add up."

Chet raised his eyebrows at Frank's suggestion. "Are you thinking that Boswell might have taken the stone himself?"

"I know the idea is farfetched," the dark-haired sleuth admitted. "But whoever entered the museum had to have a key to the back door. And it seems odd that the man had a ski mask on, as if he was worried that someone might recognize him."

"I see your point," Joe said. "But the idea is so far out I can't believe it. Anyway, what do we do now?"

"I'll think about it," Frank answered as he squeezed into the driver's seat of Fritz Kriegler's tiny car.

Upon returning to the German Emba.s.sy, the three sleuths were met by another gathering.

A group of radio and newspaper reporters waited outside the gate and crowded around them as soon as they arrived. Frank made a short statement for the journalists, saying that the Hardys were in no way connected with the diamond theft, and had been released by the police.

Just then, one of the reporters reached through the open car window and shoved a note into Joe's shirt pocket. Without saying a word, he turned and crossed the street.

Once the newspapermen had left, Joe pulled the note from his pocket and read it aloud: " 'PIER SIX AFTER DARK BE THERE WITH DIAMOND. WILL PAY $.' ".

"Someone must think we really took that stone," Chet observed.

Frank looked back across the street for the man who had delivered the message, but he was gone.

"That's right," he said. "Someone who wants it badly enough to pay for stolen goods."

"Pier six must refer to the city dock," Joe remarked.

"Who cares where it is," Chet spoke up. "We don't have the diamond anyway."

Frank operated the switch on the dashboard to open the emba.s.sy gates. "Diamond or not," he said, "this is our chance to find out who wants it and why."

Joe frowned. "I think perhaps we're being set up."

"So do I," Frank concurred. "I'd want Chet and Fritz to be there for cover."

"You plan to walk right into this trap, and I'm supposed to rescue you, is that it?" Chet asked with a tone of disbelief.

"Think of us as live bait," Joe answered. "We'll attract the fish and you can reel him in."

"At least you can help turn the odds in our favor if we do meet with trouble," Frank added.

Once inside the emba.s.sy, Frank and Joe described their plan to Fritz. He and Chet were to dress in disguises and be at pier six of the city dock by nightfall. The German youth eagerly agreed to partic.i.p.ate in the plan, and he went upstairs to look for material for a disguise.

Frank looked at his watch. "We have a few hours left before dark. Ought to be plenty of time for a little ghost hunting."

CHAPTER VII.

Unwilling Jockeys Joe looked at his brother questioningly. "Ghost hunting?"

Frank smiled. "Not real ghosts, but the questions people leave behind about themselves after they're dead. Arthur Rutlidge willed that diamond to the museum very shortly before his boating accident. It's possible that someone a.s.sociated with him knew he would have that accident."

"You're saying that the drowning may have been on purpose," Joe stated, picking up his brother's thought.

"It's possible. Anyway, Detective Barnes told me that Rutlidge had a horse-breeding farm outside of town. It might be a good idea to check the place out. I'll call the police and tell them we're going. They'll tell whoever is at the manor to let us talk to them."

Less than an hour later, Frank and Joe were driving through thoroughbred racehorse country. Rolling hills covered with dark green gra.s.s provided plenty of room for the fast animals to run.

"That must be it," Joe said, indicating an old manor house and several stables set off the road on top of a hill.

Frank turned the red sports car up the long drive. Arriving at the manor house, the boys were met by an old butler who escorted them inside.

The butler introduced himself as Wilkinson as they sat in the living room. "May I bring you some tea?"

The Hardys declined the offer and explained that they were interested in the events surrounding Rutlidge's boating accident.

Wilkinson shook his head. "I was employed by Mr. Rutlidge for close to forty years. He was a grand man, a gentleman and one of the finest breeders in the country. Then a few months ago, everything began to fall to pieces for him."

"How do you mean?" Joe asked.

The butler made a sweeping gesture with his arms. "I mean everything. His best horses could no longer run. n.o.body would buy the horses because it was believed the animals were hexed. And then one day, he went sailing on the bay and never came back."

"Why were his horses supposed to be hexed?" Joe questioned the old butler.

"It was that cursed diamond of his. I knew it would get him some day, but he wouldn't let go of it, even when it started to ruin him."

Wilkinson pulled a silk handkerchief from his jacket pocket and gently dabbed his forehead. "I tried persuading him to sell it. I believe several offers were made, although I'm not sure what the conditions were. Anyway, Mr. Rutlidge refused them. He just laughed at the idea that the diamond had any special powers, and seemed almost determined to disprove the superst.i.tion. You can see where that got him."

"Who offered to buy the Faith diamond from Rutlidge?" Frank queried.

Wilkinson shrugged. "I don't know. Whoever it was never came here in person." The butler looked quizzically at the boys. "Why are you asking these questions?"

Joe explained that the valuable gem had been stolen from the museum the night before, and that they suspected the theft might be connected with Rutlidge's accident.

"Are you suggesting that this is all part of a plot?" the butler said, raising one eyebrow.

"Could be," Frank answered tersely.

"Is that Mr. Rutlidge?" Joe asked, pointing through the open door to a photograph hanging in the hallway of the old manor house.

A number of pictures covered the walls, mostly of winning thoroughbreds the former horse breeder had raised and owned. In the photograph Joe indicated, a middle-aged man with graying temples stood proudly beside a black filly.

"It was the last picture taken of him," Wilkinson told them. "As a matter of fact, that filly he's with is called Faith. Mr. Rutlidge named her after the diamond. She's a very fast horse now, and she'll be entering her first major race this week."

"This was Rutlidge's way of proving that the Faith diamond didn't have supernatural powers?" Frank asked.

"Exactly." The old butler nodded. "He hoped to clear away the superst.i.tion once and for all by actually naming a winning horse after the diamond. Unfortunately, the gem got him first."

"Do you really believe that the diamond has the power to bring bad luck to its owners?" asked Joe, not yet sure whether Wilkinson wasn't exaggerating the story for their benefit.

"All I know," Wilkinson said, as he leaned forward and folded his hands, "is that Mr. Rutlidge isn't the first owner to have met with an untimely end. The last proprietor was lost in an avalanche while skiing in Chile, and the one before him was the victim of a rare tropical disease. Then Mr. Rutlidge, rest his soul, took his sunfish sailboat out for the afternoon and never came back. The next day, the Coast Guard found it washed up on sh.o.r.e all broken up. They concluded that he was caught in a thunderstorm, was thrown off the boat, and drowned. I say he was just another victim of that gem. I hate to admit it, but there's just too much evidence pointing to that stone for me not to believe it has evil powers."

"What about his will?" Frank asked. "He left the diamond to the Smithsonian shortly before his accident.

Do you know why?"

"No, I don't. But I do know that his sister, Meg, was quite upset when he made the alteration in the will.