A sharp, repetitive knock on the front door announced the arrival of a visitor, presumably the Jonathan Drecker that Wood had mentioned.
Since Billy-the-Butler was gone, Fenton opened the door himself, revealing a man of medium height, with black, slicked-back hair and small, beady brown eyes standing on the doorstep. Fenton's first impression was that this man resembled some sort of rodent - and the quickly-observed habitual sniff the man possessed gave credence to his observation. I feel like I'm looking at a rat with a head cold!
"Who are you?" the man demanded, staring suspiciously at Fenton.
"I'm Jeff King, Mr. Wood's personal assistant." Fenton introduced himself. "And you are...?"
"Jon Drecker." Drecker responded, holding out his right hand. Fenton shook it, noting the exceptionally long fingernail on the man's pinky.
"Yes, of course - Mr. Wood has been expecting you." Fenton said, stepping back and opening the door fully. "Won't you come in?"
Drecker entered, and Fenton closed the door. "Mr. Wood had an emergency which required his immediate attention." he explained his employer's absence. "However, I have been instructed to welcome you, and accept the package you have brought."
"Um...there's a slight problem with that." Drecker said, sniffing. Fenton raised his right eyebrow questioningly. "I need to talk with Jim. When can I see him?"
"Mr. Wood should return no later than tomorrow," Fenton told him. "Perhaps you would care to wait? You're welcome to spend the night."
"Uh - sure." Drecker replied, sniffing again.
"I'll show you to your room, so you can freshen up." Fenton said, leading the way up the stairs. "Dinner is at eight." he added, pausing in front of the doorway to the room next to his own. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll inform the cook that you'll be joining us for dinner - and then I need to get back to work."
"Oh, sure." Drecker said with a dismissive nod. He entered the guest room and closed the door behind him.
Fenton headed downstairs to tell the cook that an extra plate would be needed at dinner. He shook his head, wondering what sort of business Jim Wood could have with a hardcore cocaine junkie.
When Fenton returned to Wood's office, he made an inconspicuous search of the room. He found no obvious cameras or microphones, and felt secure enough to look for the unobtrusive, positive that Wood would not have his own office under scrutiny.
His search revealed a switch beneath the left arm of the chair; when activated, it opened a panel on the left wall that had concealed nine video monitors. One screen showed Fenton's room, empty, and the one below it gave a view of the guest room which Drecker occupied. Each monitor spent roughly 30 seconds per room, then switched to a different one before returning to the original. This meant only ten rooms were under surveillance, for one monitor showed the hallways, while three others covered the gate, the carport/garage, front door, rear door, and the basement. Fenton surmised the grounds were left unmonitored because of the four Doberman guard dogs which were released to roam the premises each evening.
Fenton watched Drecker for a bit, but the man just lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, so he decided to use this time to search Wood's office for anything which might prove incriminating. The best place to start, he decided, was with the floor safe under the desk.
Fenton knelt down and pulled the carpet back, as Wood had instructed him. The safe was basic gray steel, with a large flat slit in the top. The package Drecker was supposed to have brought couldn't be any bigger than a manila envelope, or more than an inch thick... Fenton thought. He removed a penlight from his pocket, and getting down on his stomach, tried to peer through the slit; however, the light could not penetrate the steel through the small opening.
Sighing, Fenton laid the penlight down, and looked at the lock on the safe. A combination lock, easy enough to open - if one had a stethoscope, which he didn't. No, he would have to try and guess the combination. What was it Laura said about Wood? he thought, scowling in concentration. Oh yeah...possessive about his late wife. If only he knew something about her....
Fenton got up and strolled around the office, hoping to find something that would help him. He came to a standstill in front of a golden-framed photograph, and stared. A small, beautiful woman gazed back at him with Joe's blue eyes. There was writing at the base of the image.
It's her epitaph! he realized. It gave both her birth date and the date of her death. Below this picture was another frame containing Daisy's and Jim's marriage certificate. Fenton memorized the three dates, then returned to the safe.
Mentally crossing his fingers, he tried the date of their marriage. No good. Next, he tried Daisy's birth date, and gave a silent shout of joy as the lock clicked. Lifting the lid, he aimed his penlight inside the safe.
The safe held five envelopes and one small metal box. Fenton pulled the contents out and sat up. Opening the metal box, he was unsurprised to find it loaded with cash. All hundreds. He closed it, and set it back in the safe.
Opening the first envelope, he found a list of businesses with names beside each. He scanned the list, and found the name Andopolis next to 'Mr. Gyro.' A list of Wood's various enterprises, and the men who run them...Fenton theorized, planning on checking out each of the men and the businesses.
The second envelope contained two separate sheets of paper. The first sheet listed names, addresses, and phone numbers of three men from Charleston, South Carolina. Albert Sweeney was one of these three men. Beneath his name were four other names, with corresponding phone numbers. A percentage was written next to each man's name, with the total equaling fifty percent. At the bottom of each list of names was the name of a business. Fenton bet each of these businesses were dummies, set up for the exclusive purpose of laundering the profits of Wood's illegal dealings. Fenton was beginning to believe Wood was more than just a crook. He was a crime lord.
The second sheet of paper was identical to the first, except that the names were different, and the location was New York City. Jonathan Drecker's name appeared at the top of this list. When Fenton laid the papers down and reached for the third envelope, he was grinning from ear to ear. No wonder Wood is a self-made multi-millionaire! he thought. He's got his hand in most of the criminal proceedings in two of the largest cities on the east coast!
The third envelope held a prospectus for a stock portfolio with the firm Mortimer and Leif, which was located here in Burnsville. Never having heard of the firm, Fenton leafed through the papers. He didn't know a lot about the stock market, but an 80-percent return seemed a bit much for the six-month period listed.
The fourth envelope contained another prospectus, this one more believable. The firm, Reginald Investments, operating out of New York City, showed only a 30-percent increase over a six-month span.
The fifth and final envelope contained a surprise for Fenton: it was the last will and testament of Daisy Wood. As Fenton read it, he frowned, positive that this will had not been executed. He stood up and took the contents of all five envelopes to the fax machine. He would send all of these to a friend and associate of his, Sam Radley.
But Sam wasn't at home, having gone away with Ethel, his wife, on a second honeymoon to celebrate five years of marriage. Sam had given the Hardys a key to his apartment, requesting that they keep an eye on the place, and maybe water the plants. His fax machine would receive the copies, but Sam wasn't there to deal with the information.
Fenton mentally kicked himself. He had recently purchased a fax machine, but kept putting off hooking it up. Once Wood was behind bars, he decided, that fax machine would be connected immediately.
Finishing up, he put the items back in their respective envelopes and returned them to the safe, closing it and covering it back up with the carpet.
He glanced at the monitors. "Blast it!" he snarled. Drecker was awake, and on the prowl. He would have to finish his search later. Time to follow Wood's guest.
Ezra arrived back at his office in less than an hour. "You get the tap on Wood's hotel room?" he asked Sergeant Morrow.
"Yes sir," Morrow answered. "We'll have names and numbers of all communications to and from his room."
"Good job, Sergeant." the chief commended him.
"Did your errand have something to do with Wood's visit?" Morrow inquired, quirking an eyebrow.
"No." Ezra responded, going into his office, and leaving a curious Morrow at his desk. It isn't that I don't trust Sal, he thought. I never would have had him monitor the meeting, if that were the case. No... he decided, It's just better if only those directly involved know of Joe's whereabouts for the time being. Besides, he reasoned, if I had told Sal about picking up the crutches, he would have figured out where Joe was, and it might have put him, the Hardys, and Ginger all in danger.
"Remember, in an investigation, the less people who know, the better..." the words of an instructor at the Police Academy flashed through his mind as he sat down at his desk.
Ezra's thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of the intercom on his desk. "Sir, there's an Agent Rathbone on line two." Sal's gruff voice came across.
"Thanks," Collig acknowledged, and picked up the phone. "Collig here."
"Chief Collig," a smooth voice came over the line. "I am Greg Rathbone with Internal Affairs."
Ezra made a face. Like his men, he detested Internal Affairs, but viewed them as a necessary evil. "What may I do for you, Agent Rathbone?"
"I was contacted by a private investigator, Fenton Hardy." Rathbone explained. "He made some serious allegations regarding Chief Barry Greer of Burnsville."
"I'm aware of the nature of those allegations." Collig admitted.
"I'm in Bayport, but it seems Mr. Hardy isn't around." Rathbone stated. "He told me I should contact you if the situation arose."
"Of course," Ezra readily agreed. "But it might be best if we met somewhere in town." he went on, not wanting his men to think he was associating with the enemy.
"My thoughts exactly." Rathbone concurred. "I'll be waiting at Zippy's Burgers."
"I'm on my way." Ezra said, hanging up.
"Leaving again?" Sal asked as Ezra walked out of his office once more, cap on his head.
"I'm patrolling," Ezra quipped with a quick smile, and left.
A few moments later, a phone rang in a hotel room in Bayport. "Hello?" Billy Catherson answered it.
"Go get your boss." Sal ordered.
Billy knocked on the connecting door, and Wood opened it. Billy pointed at the phone. "Morrow." he said tersely.
Wood lifted the receiver. "Hello, Sergeant." he said in a bored voice.
"The Chief is on his way to meet with the IA agent now. At Zippy's Burgers, on Main just off Exit 19."
"Thank you, Sergeant." Wood replied. "You have been most helpful." he added before disconnecting, then swiftly dialed the number of Andrew Vance, a man whom Wood had used on several previous occasions to eliminate 'trouble.'
"Yeah?" came a nasal answer, after the third ring.
"Vance, I have a job for you." Wood said, his eyes hard.
"I'm listening." Vance said.
"Chief Ezra Collig." Wood stated. "He's headed to Zippy's Burgers right now."
"A cop? That's gonna cost ya."
"Three times your normal rate." Wood replied, not wishing to haggle.
"Done." Vance agreed, and hung up.
Since Billy-the-Butler was gone, Fenton opened the door himself, revealing a man of medium height, with black, slicked-back hair and small, beady brown eyes standing on the doorstep. Fenton's first impression was that this man resembled some sort of rodent - and the quickly-observed habitual sniff the man possessed gave credence to his observation. I feel like I'm looking at a rat with a head cold!
"Who are you?" the man demanded, staring suspiciously at Fenton.
"I'm Jeff King, Mr. Wood's personal assistant." Fenton introduced himself. "And you are...?"
"Jon Drecker." Drecker responded, holding out his right hand. Fenton shook it, noting the exceptionally long fingernail on the man's pinky.
"Yes, of course - Mr. Wood has been expecting you." Fenton said, stepping back and opening the door fully. "Won't you come in?"
Drecker entered, and Fenton closed the door. "Mr. Wood had an emergency which required his immediate attention." he explained his employer's absence. "However, I have been instructed to welcome you, and accept the package you have brought."
"Um...there's a slight problem with that." Drecker said, sniffing. Fenton raised his right eyebrow questioningly. "I need to talk with Jim. When can I see him?"
"Mr. Wood should return no later than tomorrow," Fenton told him. "Perhaps you would care to wait? You're welcome to spend the night."
"Uh - sure." Drecker replied, sniffing again.
"I'll show you to your room, so you can freshen up." Fenton said, leading the way up the stairs. "Dinner is at eight." he added, pausing in front of the doorway to the room next to his own. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll inform the cook that you'll be joining us for dinner - and then I need to get back to work."
"Oh, sure." Drecker said with a dismissive nod. He entered the guest room and closed the door behind him.
Fenton headed downstairs to tell the cook that an extra plate would be needed at dinner. He shook his head, wondering what sort of business Jim Wood could have with a hardcore cocaine junkie.
When Fenton returned to Wood's office, he made an inconspicuous search of the room. He found no obvious cameras or microphones, and felt secure enough to look for the unobtrusive, positive that Wood would not have his own office under scrutiny.
His search revealed a switch beneath the left arm of the chair; when activated, it opened a panel on the left wall that had concealed nine video monitors. One screen showed Fenton's room, empty, and the one below it gave a view of the guest room which Drecker occupied. Each monitor spent roughly 30 seconds per room, then switched to a different one before returning to the original. This meant only ten rooms were under surveillance, for one monitor showed the hallways, while three others covered the gate, the carport/garage, front door, rear door, and the basement. Fenton surmised the grounds were left unmonitored because of the four Doberman guard dogs which were released to roam the premises each evening.
Fenton watched Drecker for a bit, but the man just lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, so he decided to use this time to search Wood's office for anything which might prove incriminating. The best place to start, he decided, was with the floor safe under the desk.
Fenton knelt down and pulled the carpet back, as Wood had instructed him. The safe was basic gray steel, with a large flat slit in the top. The package Drecker was supposed to have brought couldn't be any bigger than a manila envelope, or more than an inch thick... Fenton thought. He removed a penlight from his pocket, and getting down on his stomach, tried to peer through the slit; however, the light could not penetrate the steel through the small opening.
Sighing, Fenton laid the penlight down, and looked at the lock on the safe. A combination lock, easy enough to open - if one had a stethoscope, which he didn't. No, he would have to try and guess the combination. What was it Laura said about Wood? he thought, scowling in concentration. Oh yeah...possessive about his late wife. If only he knew something about her....
Fenton got up and strolled around the office, hoping to find something that would help him. He came to a standstill in front of a golden-framed photograph, and stared. A small, beautiful woman gazed back at him with Joe's blue eyes. There was writing at the base of the image.
It's her epitaph! he realized. It gave both her birth date and the date of her death. Below this picture was another frame containing Daisy's and Jim's marriage certificate. Fenton memorized the three dates, then returned to the safe.
Mentally crossing his fingers, he tried the date of their marriage. No good. Next, he tried Daisy's birth date, and gave a silent shout of joy as the lock clicked. Lifting the lid, he aimed his penlight inside the safe.
The safe held five envelopes and one small metal box. Fenton pulled the contents out and sat up. Opening the metal box, he was unsurprised to find it loaded with cash. All hundreds. He closed it, and set it back in the safe.
Opening the first envelope, he found a list of businesses with names beside each. He scanned the list, and found the name Andopolis next to 'Mr. Gyro.' A list of Wood's various enterprises, and the men who run them...Fenton theorized, planning on checking out each of the men and the businesses.
The second envelope contained two separate sheets of paper. The first sheet listed names, addresses, and phone numbers of three men from Charleston, South Carolina. Albert Sweeney was one of these three men. Beneath his name were four other names, with corresponding phone numbers. A percentage was written next to each man's name, with the total equaling fifty percent. At the bottom of each list of names was the name of a business. Fenton bet each of these businesses were dummies, set up for the exclusive purpose of laundering the profits of Wood's illegal dealings. Fenton was beginning to believe Wood was more than just a crook. He was a crime lord.
The second sheet of paper was identical to the first, except that the names were different, and the location was New York City. Jonathan Drecker's name appeared at the top of this list. When Fenton laid the papers down and reached for the third envelope, he was grinning from ear to ear. No wonder Wood is a self-made multi-millionaire! he thought. He's got his hand in most of the criminal proceedings in two of the largest cities on the east coast!
The third envelope held a prospectus for a stock portfolio with the firm Mortimer and Leif, which was located here in Burnsville. Never having heard of the firm, Fenton leafed through the papers. He didn't know a lot about the stock market, but an 80-percent return seemed a bit much for the six-month period listed.
The fourth envelope contained another prospectus, this one more believable. The firm, Reginald Investments, operating out of New York City, showed only a 30-percent increase over a six-month span.
The fifth and final envelope contained a surprise for Fenton: it was the last will and testament of Daisy Wood. As Fenton read it, he frowned, positive that this will had not been executed. He stood up and took the contents of all five envelopes to the fax machine. He would send all of these to a friend and associate of his, Sam Radley.
But Sam wasn't at home, having gone away with Ethel, his wife, on a second honeymoon to celebrate five years of marriage. Sam had given the Hardys a key to his apartment, requesting that they keep an eye on the place, and maybe water the plants. His fax machine would receive the copies, but Sam wasn't there to deal with the information.
Fenton mentally kicked himself. He had recently purchased a fax machine, but kept putting off hooking it up. Once Wood was behind bars, he decided, that fax machine would be connected immediately.
Finishing up, he put the items back in their respective envelopes and returned them to the safe, closing it and covering it back up with the carpet.
He glanced at the monitors. "Blast it!" he snarled. Drecker was awake, and on the prowl. He would have to finish his search later. Time to follow Wood's guest.
Ezra arrived back at his office in less than an hour. "You get the tap on Wood's hotel room?" he asked Sergeant Morrow.
"Yes sir," Morrow answered. "We'll have names and numbers of all communications to and from his room."
"Good job, Sergeant." the chief commended him.
"Did your errand have something to do with Wood's visit?" Morrow inquired, quirking an eyebrow.
"No." Ezra responded, going into his office, and leaving a curious Morrow at his desk. It isn't that I don't trust Sal, he thought. I never would have had him monitor the meeting, if that were the case. No... he decided, It's just better if only those directly involved know of Joe's whereabouts for the time being. Besides, he reasoned, if I had told Sal about picking up the crutches, he would have figured out where Joe was, and it might have put him, the Hardys, and Ginger all in danger.
"Remember, in an investigation, the less people who know, the better..." the words of an instructor at the Police Academy flashed through his mind as he sat down at his desk.
Ezra's thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of the intercom on his desk. "Sir, there's an Agent Rathbone on line two." Sal's gruff voice came across.
"Thanks," Collig acknowledged, and picked up the phone. "Collig here."
"Chief Collig," a smooth voice came over the line. "I am Greg Rathbone with Internal Affairs."
Ezra made a face. Like his men, he detested Internal Affairs, but viewed them as a necessary evil. "What may I do for you, Agent Rathbone?"
"I was contacted by a private investigator, Fenton Hardy." Rathbone explained. "He made some serious allegations regarding Chief Barry Greer of Burnsville."
"I'm aware of the nature of those allegations." Collig admitted.
"I'm in Bayport, but it seems Mr. Hardy isn't around." Rathbone stated. "He told me I should contact you if the situation arose."
"Of course," Ezra readily agreed. "But it might be best if we met somewhere in town." he went on, not wanting his men to think he was associating with the enemy.
"My thoughts exactly." Rathbone concurred. "I'll be waiting at Zippy's Burgers."
"I'm on my way." Ezra said, hanging up.
"Leaving again?" Sal asked as Ezra walked out of his office once more, cap on his head.
"I'm patrolling," Ezra quipped with a quick smile, and left.
A few moments later, a phone rang in a hotel room in Bayport. "Hello?" Billy Catherson answered it.
"Go get your boss." Sal ordered.
Billy knocked on the connecting door, and Wood opened it. Billy pointed at the phone. "Morrow." he said tersely.
Wood lifted the receiver. "Hello, Sergeant." he said in a bored voice.
"The Chief is on his way to meet with the IA agent now. At Zippy's Burgers, on Main just off Exit 19."
"Thank you, Sergeant." Wood replied. "You have been most helpful." he added before disconnecting, then swiftly dialed the number of Andrew Vance, a man whom Wood had used on several previous occasions to eliminate 'trouble.'
"Yeah?" came a nasal answer, after the third ring.
"Vance, I have a job for you." Wood said, his eyes hard.
"I'm listening." Vance said.
"Chief Ezra Collig." Wood stated. "He's headed to Zippy's Burgers right now."
"A cop? That's gonna cost ya."
"Three times your normal rate." Wood replied, not wishing to haggle.
"Done." Vance agreed, and hung up.
