His face white, Fenton looked at the youths. "Boys, you're going in undercover at Brushnell. Except you, Frank," he clarified, holding up a hand to prevent his son's forthcoming tirade. "I need your help with the investigation. Callie and Vanessa, you and Laura will be in charge of taping all conversations that come through. As for you four boys," he added, looking at Biff, Tony, Phil and Chet. "I want you to watch out for Joe at school. Tony, you and Chet can sign up for fencing," he added, knowing they had taken lessons with Frank and Joe the previous year.
Fenton looked at Frank. "Until we know what kind of hold he has over your brother, we can't go over there," he stressed. He knew how badly Frank wanted to rescue Joe because he felt ready to mangle Moody himself. But he also knew that since Joe didn't want their help, going after him now could do more harm than good. "I have to arrange for the boys admission to Brushnell. I want your word you will not go next door unless Joe's life is in danger," he said sternly.
"But that bastard is hurting him," Frank rasped, trying hard to control the anger which welled up inside.
"Promise," Fenton ordered, staring at him hard. Finally, Frank nodded and Fenton left the room to go upstairs and make the calls needed to get the boys into the academy. A few minutes later, unable to stand hearing the occasional sniffle from his brother through the speaker, Frank stood up and headed for the door.
Biff was there before him, blocking his exit. "You promised your dad," he reminded Frank. Hearing Joe trying to muffle his cries was starting to affect them all but they believed Fenton Hardy knew what he was doing. They had to believe. Even a hint that he could be wrong could destroy Frank and all the teens knew they had to be strong for Frank. He needed them now more than he ever had.
"I'm not going over there," Frank told him, his face haunted. "I'm going to see Sam. The names Joe gave me could be a lead to getting something on this bastard."
"Want some company?" Biff asked, not quite believing him.
"Sure," Frank agreed. He hadn't really wanted to be alone. It would have given him too much time to think about what was happening to Joe.
"So, why not just call Sam?" Biff asked when they were underway.
"I couldn't stand to listen anymore," Frank replied truthfully, his voice soft but heavy with emotion. Biff put a hand on Frank's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He said nothing, hoping his presence alone would be enough support for his friend. Like Frank, hearing Joe's punishment had taken a toll on him as well.
They arrived at the Radley's apartment in a little over two hours. Ethel Radley, a petite woman with curly brown hair and green eyes let the boys inside. "I'm going to see Angela," she informed her five foot ten inch husband, stretching up to kiss him goodbye as he leaned down.
After Ethel left, Sam led the boys into the living room and sat down on the chair facing the sofa. He leaned back and looked at them quizzically through sharp green eyes, his straight, thinning brown hair slightly ruffled from something he had been doing moments before the boys arrived. He knew Frank was after information but he didn't know why he hadn't just called. However, Sam respected his privacy and if Frank wasn't going to offer an explanation, he wasn't going to push.
"The address book you gave me was filled with names and addresses of people who either died some time ago or never existed in the first place," Sam told him.
"He planted it for us to find," Frank snorted in disgust.
"He knew you were going to be there?" Sam asked, lifting his eyebrows in surprise. Realizing Sam didn't know about the most recent happenings, Frank brought him up to date. "Poor Joe," Sam murmured. He truly liked both of Fenton's sons and, like the Hardys' other friends, was angered by the unfairness and brutality Joe's natural father was inflicting on him.
"What about the other names?" Frank asked. "The ones Joe gave me?"
"That is another matter altogether," Sam said, a smile flitting across his features. "Those men proved to be some very interesting people. Ralph Freemont is a well-to-do entrepreneur. He's a self-made multi-millionaire who is well known for his charitable contributions," Sam began.
"That's no help," Biff said, frowning.
"However" Sam continued, "Freemont is also known in lesser circles. He's rumored to be involved in a drug cartel operating along the California coast."
"That's a long way away," Biff commented skeptically.
"A plus in keeping him away from any unpleasantness," Frank remarked.
"He has come close to being caught a few times, but his lawyer, Carl Sturgiss, is the reason why he remains free. Sturgiss has never lost a case but only because witnesses have changed their testimony or vanished. When hard evidence was presented, it too either vanished or was tampered with and so became inadmissible in court.
"There are two more well-known men who keep Sturgiss as their lawyer. One is Ronnie Harrison, a man who inherited a fortune from his grand-father then gambled it all away. He vanished from sight for two years only to return richer than ever. I'm in the process of doing a bit more research on Harrison," Sam added. "A friend of mine in the FBI said Harrison is currently under investigation but, keep it under your hats. Even he doesn't know it yet."
"Will do," Frank promised as Biff nodded. "You said two more men. Who is the second?" he asked, hoping it was Moody.
"Austin Moody," Sam said. "He's practically untouchable. One of ...."
"The richest men in the states," Frank finished for him.
"And the meanest," Biff added, scowling.
"You know him?" Sam asked, confused.
"Sorry," Frank apologized. "I thought you knew. Moody is Joe's natural father."
Sam looked thoughtful. Frank and Biff waited quietly for him to speak. "I would suggest you concentrate on Sturgiss," Sam spoke. "If you can get him out of the way I am sure Moody, and Harrison and Freemont will go down."
"Sturgiss is that good?" Biff demanded.
"Definitely," Sam acknowledged. "I'm willing to bet that Sturgiss knows enough to put them away for life and then some."
"No wonder Moody cut that deal with mom about adopting Joe," Frank said. "If Joe knows even a little more about these men, Moody would be sent up forever."
"Ask him," Sam suggested. "Maybe you can nudge his memory."
"If we could get close enough to him," Frank said, breaking into a scowl. "He doesn't want us around him."
Joe slowly rose and made his way into the bathroom. He knew no one would tend his wounds and he couldn't reach them. The only thing he could do was make sure they were kept clean. He turned the shower on and slipped out of his shoes, socks and pants.
He inhaled sharply as he stepped under the spray and let the tears flow freely as the warm water first hurt, then soothed his aching back. Long minutes later, he shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. He dried off and donned the same clothes he had been wearing before his punishment had been inflicted.
When Joe exited his room, Charles was waiting for him. "Your father desires your presence in his office," Joe was informed.
Joe gave him a brief nod and hurried downstairs, eager to get away from Charles and the intense look he was giving Joe as water trickled down from his still wet hair and landed on his shirt. He could still hear Charles' words and the threat behind them from an earlier time. "You clumsy clod!" screamed Ami, looking at Joe, his shirt soaking wet from where he had spilled his water when she had jostled him by bursting into the room and hitting him with the door. "Can't you even drink water without making a mess?" she yelled, grabbing his arm and leading him from the kitchen into the utility room. "I will not have you messing up the rest of the house and you are not going to change," she told him, opening the door of the dryer. She shoved Joe inside and closed the door with a bang. She turned it on and smiled with satisfaction as she heard his small, mal-nourished body being slammed around in the growingly hot appliance.
"Madam," Charles said. "Your guest has arrived," he said, coming into the room.
"Thank you Charles," Ami replied, then left.
Charles opened the dryer door and caught Joe as he fell into his arms. Joe looked up into Charles dark eyes, trembling. "You owe me," Charles told him, his voice quiet and promising.
Joe shivered as he made his way to his father's office. He had been beaten too severely for Charles to make good on the unsaid threat and when he had been released from the attic he had recovered to the point where he ran away only to try and kill himself. He wondered how much he could take this time? He shook his head. He had no choice but to take everything they dished out, no matter what the punishment or how much it hurt. To fight back, run away, or die, would leave his family, for he still thought of the Hardys as his real family, open to a fate worse than death and he would prevent that at all costs.
Joe knocked on Austin's office door and went inside at his bidding. "You are going to start earning your keep," Austin told Joe when he arrived. "As of today, except for your educational requirements, you will be my personal assistant."
"Yes, Father," Joe replied meekly when Austin looked at him as if waiting for an answer.
"You may start by filing those folders after which this," he set his hand on top of a stack of papers almost two inches thick, "needs to be typed and saved to disk. No mistakes," he added.
"Yes, Father," Joe said.
"Your mother and I have an engagement this afternoon," Austin informed Joe. "When we return, I expect everything to be finished."
"Yes, Father," Joe replied once again.
"Charles will bring you dinner after you have completed your tasks for the evening," Austin added, standing up and leaving.
Joe picked up the folders and began filing them. He was starving and from the looks of the stack of papers he had to type, it would be hours before he was finished.
"At least if the Moodys are leaving, then they can't hurt Joe," Vanessa said, her eyes still red from crying.
"We should follow the Moodys," Phil said. "Chet?" he asked, looking at the plump youth who had seemed to of lost his appetite today.
"Sure," Chet agreed, standing up.
"Tony, why don't you stay with Vanessa?" Phil suggested. "Mrs. Hardy, you and Callie should probably try and get some rest. You'll have to relieve Vanessa later."
"That's a good idea," Laura agreed. "Be careful," she urged as Phil and Chet headed for the door.
Tony sat down beside Vanessa after Laura and Callie left the room. "You okay?" he asked.
Vanessa nodded. "I just don't see how he could be so cruel to his own son," she said.
"There are all kinds of sickos in this world," Tony stated then went quiet as the speaker began picking something up.
"Ami and I should be back around eleven," Austin informed Charles. "Keep an eye on Joesph. If he finishes his work before we return, he may have a peanut butter sandwich. If not, he goes to bed without anything."
"As you wish, Sir," Charles replied. "Have you any other instructions?"
"Yes, remove the chair from his room and move in a desk. He will have a lot of homework to do before he goes to bed after he finishes his work for me. And see to it he has a back pack and any other items he will need for school tomorrow."
"Yes, Sir," Charles replied again.
"And see about getting a cook," Austin continued. "One who will come in for dinner only. Nothing personal, but your culinary skills leave much to be desired."
"But Sir, the employment agency is closed on Sundays,' Charles reminded his employer.
"Call Allison's Temp Service. I've used them before. There is a twenty-four number listed in the yellow pages."
"Very good, Sir," Charles agreed.
Vanessa's eyes met Tony's, both sparkling with excitement, then jumped up and ran in search of Laura. She found her and Callie in the kitchen talking to Fenton who had finished his calls and was fixing a snack. Vanessa told them about the conversation Austin and Charles had.
"This is good," Fenton declared, pulling out his cell phone and reaching for the phone book on the counter. "Laura," he added, not looking away from the book. "Call Gertrude in Lincolnton and have her fly home immediately."
Fenton looked at Frank. "Until we know what kind of hold he has over your brother, we can't go over there," he stressed. He knew how badly Frank wanted to rescue Joe because he felt ready to mangle Moody himself. But he also knew that since Joe didn't want their help, going after him now could do more harm than good. "I have to arrange for the boys admission to Brushnell. I want your word you will not go next door unless Joe's life is in danger," he said sternly.
"But that bastard is hurting him," Frank rasped, trying hard to control the anger which welled up inside.
"Promise," Fenton ordered, staring at him hard. Finally, Frank nodded and Fenton left the room to go upstairs and make the calls needed to get the boys into the academy. A few minutes later, unable to stand hearing the occasional sniffle from his brother through the speaker, Frank stood up and headed for the door.
Biff was there before him, blocking his exit. "You promised your dad," he reminded Frank. Hearing Joe trying to muffle his cries was starting to affect them all but they believed Fenton Hardy knew what he was doing. They had to believe. Even a hint that he could be wrong could destroy Frank and all the teens knew they had to be strong for Frank. He needed them now more than he ever had.
"I'm not going over there," Frank told him, his face haunted. "I'm going to see Sam. The names Joe gave me could be a lead to getting something on this bastard."
"Want some company?" Biff asked, not quite believing him.
"Sure," Frank agreed. He hadn't really wanted to be alone. It would have given him too much time to think about what was happening to Joe.
"So, why not just call Sam?" Biff asked when they were underway.
"I couldn't stand to listen anymore," Frank replied truthfully, his voice soft but heavy with emotion. Biff put a hand on Frank's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He said nothing, hoping his presence alone would be enough support for his friend. Like Frank, hearing Joe's punishment had taken a toll on him as well.
They arrived at the Radley's apartment in a little over two hours. Ethel Radley, a petite woman with curly brown hair and green eyes let the boys inside. "I'm going to see Angela," she informed her five foot ten inch husband, stretching up to kiss him goodbye as he leaned down.
After Ethel left, Sam led the boys into the living room and sat down on the chair facing the sofa. He leaned back and looked at them quizzically through sharp green eyes, his straight, thinning brown hair slightly ruffled from something he had been doing moments before the boys arrived. He knew Frank was after information but he didn't know why he hadn't just called. However, Sam respected his privacy and if Frank wasn't going to offer an explanation, he wasn't going to push.
"The address book you gave me was filled with names and addresses of people who either died some time ago or never existed in the first place," Sam told him.
"He planted it for us to find," Frank snorted in disgust.
"He knew you were going to be there?" Sam asked, lifting his eyebrows in surprise. Realizing Sam didn't know about the most recent happenings, Frank brought him up to date. "Poor Joe," Sam murmured. He truly liked both of Fenton's sons and, like the Hardys' other friends, was angered by the unfairness and brutality Joe's natural father was inflicting on him.
"What about the other names?" Frank asked. "The ones Joe gave me?"
"That is another matter altogether," Sam said, a smile flitting across his features. "Those men proved to be some very interesting people. Ralph Freemont is a well-to-do entrepreneur. He's a self-made multi-millionaire who is well known for his charitable contributions," Sam began.
"That's no help," Biff said, frowning.
"However" Sam continued, "Freemont is also known in lesser circles. He's rumored to be involved in a drug cartel operating along the California coast."
"That's a long way away," Biff commented skeptically.
"A plus in keeping him away from any unpleasantness," Frank remarked.
"He has come close to being caught a few times, but his lawyer, Carl Sturgiss, is the reason why he remains free. Sturgiss has never lost a case but only because witnesses have changed their testimony or vanished. When hard evidence was presented, it too either vanished or was tampered with and so became inadmissible in court.
"There are two more well-known men who keep Sturgiss as their lawyer. One is Ronnie Harrison, a man who inherited a fortune from his grand-father then gambled it all away. He vanished from sight for two years only to return richer than ever. I'm in the process of doing a bit more research on Harrison," Sam added. "A friend of mine in the FBI said Harrison is currently under investigation but, keep it under your hats. Even he doesn't know it yet."
"Will do," Frank promised as Biff nodded. "You said two more men. Who is the second?" he asked, hoping it was Moody.
"Austin Moody," Sam said. "He's practically untouchable. One of ...."
"The richest men in the states," Frank finished for him.
"And the meanest," Biff added, scowling.
"You know him?" Sam asked, confused.
"Sorry," Frank apologized. "I thought you knew. Moody is Joe's natural father."
Sam looked thoughtful. Frank and Biff waited quietly for him to speak. "I would suggest you concentrate on Sturgiss," Sam spoke. "If you can get him out of the way I am sure Moody, and Harrison and Freemont will go down."
"Sturgiss is that good?" Biff demanded.
"Definitely," Sam acknowledged. "I'm willing to bet that Sturgiss knows enough to put them away for life and then some."
"No wonder Moody cut that deal with mom about adopting Joe," Frank said. "If Joe knows even a little more about these men, Moody would be sent up forever."
"Ask him," Sam suggested. "Maybe you can nudge his memory."
"If we could get close enough to him," Frank said, breaking into a scowl. "He doesn't want us around him."
Joe slowly rose and made his way into the bathroom. He knew no one would tend his wounds and he couldn't reach them. The only thing he could do was make sure they were kept clean. He turned the shower on and slipped out of his shoes, socks and pants.
He inhaled sharply as he stepped under the spray and let the tears flow freely as the warm water first hurt, then soothed his aching back. Long minutes later, he shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. He dried off and donned the same clothes he had been wearing before his punishment had been inflicted.
When Joe exited his room, Charles was waiting for him. "Your father desires your presence in his office," Joe was informed.
Joe gave him a brief nod and hurried downstairs, eager to get away from Charles and the intense look he was giving Joe as water trickled down from his still wet hair and landed on his shirt. He could still hear Charles' words and the threat behind them from an earlier time. "You clumsy clod!" screamed Ami, looking at Joe, his shirt soaking wet from where he had spilled his water when she had jostled him by bursting into the room and hitting him with the door. "Can't you even drink water without making a mess?" she yelled, grabbing his arm and leading him from the kitchen into the utility room. "I will not have you messing up the rest of the house and you are not going to change," she told him, opening the door of the dryer. She shoved Joe inside and closed the door with a bang. She turned it on and smiled with satisfaction as she heard his small, mal-nourished body being slammed around in the growingly hot appliance.
"Madam," Charles said. "Your guest has arrived," he said, coming into the room.
"Thank you Charles," Ami replied, then left.
Charles opened the dryer door and caught Joe as he fell into his arms. Joe looked up into Charles dark eyes, trembling. "You owe me," Charles told him, his voice quiet and promising.
Joe shivered as he made his way to his father's office. He had been beaten too severely for Charles to make good on the unsaid threat and when he had been released from the attic he had recovered to the point where he ran away only to try and kill himself. He wondered how much he could take this time? He shook his head. He had no choice but to take everything they dished out, no matter what the punishment or how much it hurt. To fight back, run away, or die, would leave his family, for he still thought of the Hardys as his real family, open to a fate worse than death and he would prevent that at all costs.
Joe knocked on Austin's office door and went inside at his bidding. "You are going to start earning your keep," Austin told Joe when he arrived. "As of today, except for your educational requirements, you will be my personal assistant."
"Yes, Father," Joe replied meekly when Austin looked at him as if waiting for an answer.
"You may start by filing those folders after which this," he set his hand on top of a stack of papers almost two inches thick, "needs to be typed and saved to disk. No mistakes," he added.
"Yes, Father," Joe said.
"Your mother and I have an engagement this afternoon," Austin informed Joe. "When we return, I expect everything to be finished."
"Yes, Father," Joe replied once again.
"Charles will bring you dinner after you have completed your tasks for the evening," Austin added, standing up and leaving.
Joe picked up the folders and began filing them. He was starving and from the looks of the stack of papers he had to type, it would be hours before he was finished.
"At least if the Moodys are leaving, then they can't hurt Joe," Vanessa said, her eyes still red from crying.
"We should follow the Moodys," Phil said. "Chet?" he asked, looking at the plump youth who had seemed to of lost his appetite today.
"Sure," Chet agreed, standing up.
"Tony, why don't you stay with Vanessa?" Phil suggested. "Mrs. Hardy, you and Callie should probably try and get some rest. You'll have to relieve Vanessa later."
"That's a good idea," Laura agreed. "Be careful," she urged as Phil and Chet headed for the door.
Tony sat down beside Vanessa after Laura and Callie left the room. "You okay?" he asked.
Vanessa nodded. "I just don't see how he could be so cruel to his own son," she said.
"There are all kinds of sickos in this world," Tony stated then went quiet as the speaker began picking something up.
"Ami and I should be back around eleven," Austin informed Charles. "Keep an eye on Joesph. If he finishes his work before we return, he may have a peanut butter sandwich. If not, he goes to bed without anything."
"As you wish, Sir," Charles replied. "Have you any other instructions?"
"Yes, remove the chair from his room and move in a desk. He will have a lot of homework to do before he goes to bed after he finishes his work for me. And see to it he has a back pack and any other items he will need for school tomorrow."
"Yes, Sir," Charles replied again.
"And see about getting a cook," Austin continued. "One who will come in for dinner only. Nothing personal, but your culinary skills leave much to be desired."
"But Sir, the employment agency is closed on Sundays,' Charles reminded his employer.
"Call Allison's Temp Service. I've used them before. There is a twenty-four number listed in the yellow pages."
"Very good, Sir," Charles agreed.
Vanessa's eyes met Tony's, both sparkling with excitement, then jumped up and ran in search of Laura. She found her and Callie in the kitchen talking to Fenton who had finished his calls and was fixing a snack. Vanessa told them about the conversation Austin and Charles had.
"This is good," Fenton declared, pulling out his cell phone and reaching for the phone book on the counter. "Laura," he added, not looking away from the book. "Call Gertrude in Lincolnton and have her fly home immediately."