The Hardys left the death scene to the police and sifted slowly through the gathered crowd. Frank told an officer that if Lt. Korman needed to talk to them he knew their hotel. Joe seemed in a daze. At that time the Hardys managed to carry out their investigations without being much exposed to the brutal realities of criminal life.
Joe was struggling with some thoughts. "I was still thinking about that cleaning woman back at Earl's," he explained. "I can see how a young guy could be attracted to that sort of thing, the easy money, the glamor. I mean, you wouldn't want your mother to be …"
"Yeah, I know what you're trying to say. But then, if you're not crazy or stupid, you'd know how it would end. Like that. And then how would your mother feel, or anyone else who knew you and cared about you?"
The sun was lost behind buildings although the clear sky was still bright. Bluish shade bathed the streets. The shoppers were departing and an evening crowd was replacing them. Men emerged from their private clubs for dinner engagements. Young men escorted women wearing white gloves and long silk gowns. They walked with an air of leisurely enjoyment, unlike the bustle of working life. It suddenly struck Frank how strange a place the big city was. A block or so away from the subway station everyone was engaged in their personal pursuits and had no reason for care or concern. Here on the street people had healthy pink faces, glowing from the cool air.
The brothers walked silently for a while. Frank took the direction back to the Fuller Building and Joe seemed to follow without comment. Frank wondered if, after the violent scene he had witnessed, his brother had let their mission to find Heinze slip from his mind.
"Mr. Charles is probably waiting for us at the Fuller Building. I suppose Molly's there as well," Frank reminded his brother. Joe didn't make any response.
"Are you going to be all right?" Once Frank said it, it seemed quite natural and he didn't feel awkward.
"Yeah, I'll be fine."
The Fuller Building had a broad base clad in black granite. From this emerged, after an elaborate series of geometric setbacks, a slender tower in a lighter stone. High above the entrance was a sculpture of two men naked to their waists standing in front of a stylized city skyline. Inside, the lobby walls were decorated with murals that depicted vast panoramas of the great building projects in history: the pyramids, the Great Wall of China, the Parthenon, the cathedrals of Europe.
"I guess that's appropriate. Except that Soderstrom thinks they were all built by people from Atlantis," Frank quipped. Joe laughed. Frank was relieved to hear the sound so familiar to him.
Charles and Molly Mirkin were waiting for them in the lobby. Molly had on a tan suit and a small Robin Hood hat, tilted at an angle.
"What's your plan for getting into Soderstrom's offices?" Molly asked excitedly.
"I thought you knew the guy. Why don't you just introduce us," was Frank's answer.
"Oh, don't be smart! I know you think he's holding Heinze up there. He's not going to invite us in to show us his captive German scientist."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Well, he hasn't seen you two before. I thought maybe you could disguise yourselves as caterers. You could be pushing a trolley."
"Where would you be?" asked Joe skeptically.
"I'd be in the trolley! You could cover the top with a white cloth and drape it over the sides…"
"I hate to tell you this," said Frank, "but that sort of thing only works in Marx Brothers movies."
"And then only if you already know the password, 'Swordfish'!" Joe couldn't help adding.
"You try to come up with a better idea!" Molly poked Joe in the arm. "You could always burst in guns blazing!"
"No, that's not going to happen," Joe declared solemnly. "We don't even carry firearms."
"Oh, I forget. You're too young to be proper, licensed private detectives." After a pause she added, "Sorry, I don't mean to offend you."
"You mean everything you say. Never mind. We don't feel any need to act like tough guy private eyes."
"Thanks for the swell suggestions, Molly," said Frank, "but I think that we'll contact Lt. Korman. He and his men are only a few blocks from here."
"And he's going to stay a few blocks away," said Charles. "He doesn't know about this address and I doubt if Ahlberg will tell him anything. We've got the jump on the police. I think we should take advantage of it." Joe and Frank were surprised; Molly was not, or did not show it.
"Let me put my cards on the table, boys," Charles continued. "You remember that I said I knew about Heinze because of the files of an organization? I wasn't lying. The organization in question wasn't the F.B.I., though, it was the Communist Party U.S.A."
Joe laughed. "You, a communist? That's even more unbelievable than you as F.B.I.!"
Charles grinned slyly. "I'm full of surprises, boys. You should know that I did some work for them when they were trying to unionize textile workers in Georgia. I've investigated corporate malfeasance among U.S. steel companies. Oh, yes, I have a long history with them. You won't find me getting my head busted at some labor rally, though."
"No, you might muss up your suit," Joe observed.
"So what's your game now?" asked Frank sternly.
"It's very simple but I might as well spell it out for you. I want to expose the German missile plans. That would shock the American people out of their comfortable dream of safety. The best hope of stopping the worldwide spread of fascism is an uncompromising response from the democracies of the world. Are you on side, boys?"
Joe and Frank looked at each other. They were noncomittal. Charles grinned. "I can see your problems. Welcome to the murky world of international espionage."
"Why don't we ask Heinze what he thinks about this?" Frank was as much thinking out loud as responding.
"Very judicious of you."
"This explains why you're here, doesn't it?" Joe looked sharply at Molly. "You're here for the scoop. Charles is counting on you to publish the story about the missile development."
"I have to say," Molly said excitedly, "that I can see the headlines now, 'Terror from the skies!'."
"It's almost as important," Charles interjected, "to destroy Soderstrom's credibility as to reveal the missile plans."
"I was hoping to tie Soderstrom to the Alliance but I couldn't get hard evidence. I saw Ahlberg, or whatever his name is, with both, but he has no official position with either the Alliance or Soderstrom's institute. Now if we find Heinze being held up there, think of the story! Robert Soderstrom, decorated war hero, air defense lobbyist, is revealed as a Nazi sympathizer!"
"Charles was your source of information all along," Joe reasoned. "He told you about Heinze. He sent you to cover the Alliance meeting at the theater in Yorkville. He invited you to Earl's."
"I'd like to think that we agreed to share our information."
"And that accounts for how Charles knew you would be at this building," Joe continued. "I was wondering how he managed to spot your car on the street." Turning to Charles he said, "I suppose it's your friends in the Communist Party that have been keeping files on people like Soderstrom and Ahlberg."
Molly broke in. "I was thinking about our entry again. I'm betting that Soderstrom wouldn't do anything that might lead to a messy police investigation. That would cause the politicians in Washington to steer clear of him. He has to maintain his squeaky clean reputation."
"I'm glad you're thinking sensibly," said Charles. "I didn't relish crawling through a ventilation shaft to break into his offices. As for shooting our way in, I'm afraid my days of playing cowboys and Indians are long past."
"Now you're making fun of me. I was trying to be helpful. Look, Robert has been a perfect darling to me. I say we just go up there and say that we have something important to discuss with him."
They went to talk to the lone security guard sitting at his desk in the lobby.
"My good man," Charles began, "we need to see a man with an office on the sixteenth floor."
"I'm afraid I can't admit you to the upper floors of the building unless you can show that you have business with one of the tenants."
"But these are the Hardy Boys on one of their investigations."
"The Hardy Boys! Goodness, I'm big fans of yours."
"That's wonderful," said Frank a little dubiously.
"My favorite was 'The Secret of the Wooden Lady'".
"You don't say."
"Well, go right ahead. I don't want people to think that I got in the way of a Hardy Boys investigation. In fact, maybe I can get some credit for letting you guys in. The name's Cleary, Alvin Cleary. That's spelled with an 'A'."
"That's just great, Mr. Cleary. Thank you very much."
" 'Alvin' with an 'A'. Fascinating!" said Joe.
"No, I mean it's 'Cleary' with…"
They passed the guard and approached the elevators. The elevator doors were bronze with a design in low relief of a city skyline against a radiant sun.
"'The Secret of the Wooden Lady'?" Joe queried with a wry grin.
"It's one of Nancy Drew's cases," whispered Frank smirking.