Warning: This story includes as an on-going sub-plot an incestuous homosexual relationship between Frank and Joe Hardy. This chapter contains suggestive language.

-o-o-o-

Chapter 5: Legwork

Joe chuckled to himself as the two well-dressed young businessmen studiously avoided making eye contact with what they took to be an old bagwoman muttering to herself as she shuffled along the middle of the sidewalk. As they separated to go around him, Joe scratched his butt for emphasis. The rumpled shapeless dress he was wearing hid his form quite well. His fluffy gray wig had hair straying in all directions. Coupled with makeup and the tattered scarf he had wound around the lower part of his face, his features were nearly indiscernible. He shuffled along slowly and came to a wheezing stop a few paces from the front entrance of the law offices of McCandry and Shears, one of Carson Drew's competitors in River Heights.

After hours on the computer, Frank had finally found a fairly good picture of Walter Surrey in a news article about his most recent indictment for securities fraud. The picture had been snapped in front of the offices of McCandry and Shears. The lawyers had apparently been handling Surrey's business affairs at the time, although they had not been included in the indictment. Surrey had gotten off in that case by paying a steep fine. Frank had not been able to find any information to indicate if Surrey still had a relationship with the lawyers, so they had decided to do a little surveillance.

So while Frank waited in his car in the parking lot outside River Heights Hardware for August Quito to leave work, Joe dressed up like a bag lady and parked himself in front of the lawyers offices. He settled down with his back against the wall, right next to the wide glass doors of the law office, and began panhandling in a raspy voice. It was lunch time and a lot of people passed by. Most ignored him; a few dropped coins into the stained and shredded mitten on his outstretched hand. He didn't have to wait long. An impeccably dressed young woman came out of the office and regarded him with thinly veiled annoyance.

"Excuse me, but you can't sit there."

Joe ignored her and kept begging.

"Excuse me!" the young woman repeated in a louder voice. "You can't solicit here. You need to move on."

Joe tipped his head to the side and peeked at her from under the tangled veil of his wig. "Show a little charity, my dear," he rasped. "I used to be young and pretty like you. I'm tired. I'll move on after I rest for a minute."

The young woman frowned. "This is a professional law office. We can't have someone like you sitting here disturbing our clients. If you don't leave, I'll have to call the police."

"Oh dear!" Joe wheezed. "Everyone is so heartless these days! No one has any kindness left for a poor old woman!"

Two teenagers passing by stopped and glared at the young woman. "Hey! Show the old lady a little pity. She's not hurting anything." The two dug through their pockets and produced a couple of dollar bills. "Here you go, lady." They handed Joe the money and glared at the young woman again before moving on.

The young woman leaned over and hissed at Joe angrily. "You need to get out of here. I'm going back inside. If you don't leave, I'm calling the police." She marched back inside, letting the door bang shut behind her.

Joe waited and five minutes later a young man with a friendly smile stuck his head out of the office door.

"You're still here, I see." The young man came all the way out and squatted down next to Joe. "I'm really sorry about this but Marsha has a bee up her butt about you sitting out here. Can I take you somewhere?"

"You're very kind," Joe said in a papery voice. "I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee with a nice young man like you."

The young man chuckled. "Ok. There's a cart vendor right over there who sells great coffee. I'll get us a couple of coffees and we can sit on the bench over there. If you're not right by the door, Marsha will cool off."

Joe held out his hand. "Will you help me? It's hard for an old lady to get up."

"Sure." The young man clasped Joe's hand and steadied him as he climbed stiffly to his feet. "My name is Joe. What's yours?"

Joe had to stifle a laugh. "Joe is a nice name. My name is Mary."

"Nice to meet you, Mary."

Joe leaned on his new acquaintance and let the young man help him to the bench by the curb, where he waited while the young man went to get the coffee. When he returned, Joe cradled the steaming cup in both hands as he lifted it to his lips.

"Oh, this is quite tasty, young man. You're much kinder than that young woman."

"Thanks."

"Are you a lawyer, Joe?"

"No, I'm just an intern. I'm still in college. I'm studying to be a lawyer though."

"Well, I hope you won't be one of those bad lawyers who steal money from people. That's what happened to me. A lawyer stole all the money my husband left me and I was turned out into the street."

"That's terrible!"

Joe nodded as he sipped his coffee. "These lawyers you work for; I hope they're not thieves."

"I don't think so. I mean, they have a few clients who…" the intern stopped himself. "I probably shouldn't say that. Anyway, I think they're pretty honest for the most part."

"I see."

"Well, I should probably get back to work. Are you going to be ok? Can I get you anything else?"

"You've been very kind. What was your name again?"

"Joe. Joe Agassi."

"Thank you for your kindness, Joe Agassi. I don't want you to get in trouble, so I'll be going now." Joe patted the young man on the arm and tottered off down the street. He glanced back when he turned the corner and saw that the intern had already gone back inside. Joe picked up the pace a little bit and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. The plan was for him to meet Frank at Nick's Coffee Shop when they had finished their surveillance, but he had finished more quickly than he expected. He punched Frank's number on his speed dial.

"Hey Joe."

"Hey Frank. I'm on my way to Nick's right now. I learned something interesting."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, McCandry and Shears may not be entirely on the up and up. I talked to an intern who almost let slip that they have some shady clients."

"No kidding? Did you get any names?"

"Just the intern's. He said he's going to college so we should find out where. Maybe we can find an excuse to talk to him."

"Ok. I'm about to give up on Quito. He hasn't come out and I've been here awhile. People are starting to notice me."

"Why don't you come pick me up and we can head home. I think we should do a little more digging on these lawyers."

"All right. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

"See you then."

-o-o-o-

"Hey Joe!" Frank called from the living room. "Do you think Joe Agassi knows he was part owner of one of Walter Surrey's businesses last year?"

"What?" Joe came out of the bathroom, toweling his face dry after washing off the makeup he'd used to age his skin.

"Look here." Frank pointed at the screen. "The list of owners for this warehouse business includes Joe Agassi."

"But he's just an intern. Where would he get the money to invest in something like that?"

"I don't think he did," Frank said. "I can't even find most of the other people listed as owners. I've tried every search engine. I think Walter Surrey and August Quito are the sole owners of the business and the other people are listed to make the company look more legitimate."

"But they would have to declare it on their taxes, wouldn't they?"

Frank sat back, nodding slowly. "Maybe all these people are elderly clients of McCandry and Shears. As the manager of their clients' investments, they might do their taxes for them. These people probably have no idea they are being used as fronts."

"But Joe Agassi works there. Why would they use him?"

"One of these fake owners died unexpectedly last year. I found an obituary for him. It looks like Joe Agassi inherited his share in the company. But the company barely breaks even every year, so there's no income to declare."

"Where are these warehouses?"

"Let me look." Frank typed for a few minutes. "Here we go. There's one in New York, one in Washington DC, one in San Francisco, two in Los Angeles, and… one in River Heights." Frank sat back and turned to look at Joe. "Doesn't a River Heights location strike you as being in odd company next to those other cities?"

"It sure does." Joe stared at the computer screen for a moment and then his eyes grew wide. "Wait a minute! If I was smuggling something into the U.S., getting it into River Heights and then moving it across country from there might seem like a real good idea. The authorities keep a much tighter hold on big ports like the ones in those cities, so if they came in somewhere else…" He paused and looked at Frank.

Frank finished the thought for him. "Like through a small coastal community like Bayport, they might just get away with it for years if they were careful." Frank stood up and began to pace. "Let's think about this. Walter Surrey and August Quito are running a smuggling business and making a ton of money. But they don't want the front business for the smuggling operation to be too profitable and draw attention, so they funnel the money into other businesses, which they allow to fail. On paper, they invest a lot more in these businesses than they really put in, skim the rest of the money and then take a huge tax write-off. Then McCandry and Shears stick the skimmed money in off-shore accounts." Frank stopped in his tracks and snapped his fingers. "In fact, I bet they're using the names and accounts of their other clients as investors as a way to transfer the money. The clients unknowingly invest in the smuggling business and earn a profit. The profit is invested in the businesses that fail and the clients get the tax write-off. To them, it would look like they earned a small return, which is really a tax refund. But Surrey, Quito and the lawyers end up with a bunch of money."

Joe snorted. "So we were right the first time. These guys are just crooks and they're laundering money."

"It sure looks that way."

"But what the hell are they smuggling?" Joe scratched his head. "It must be bulky if they need warehouses to pass it though."

"Not necessarily." Frank returned to the computer. "Let's get a map to the warehouse in River Heights. I want to check the place out."

"Good idea. And maybe we should check to see if Quito or Surrey keeps a boat in the Bayport Marina."

"Also a good idea."

Joe chuckled. "You know, all this thinking has me worked up. Feel like fooling around before dinner?"

"You bet." Frank sent the map to the printer and turned around. "I still don't know if this is going to lead us to Nancy or Jolene, but I sure wouldn't mind breaking up a smuggling ring in the process."

Joe nodded. "Me too." He grabbed Frank's hands and pulled him to his feet. "Let's fuck and then I'll make dinner."

"Ok. We can go look at the warehouse after that, when it's dark."

-o-o-o-o-o-

"It sure doesn't look like much," Joe muttered.

The warehouse occupied its own block and was nearly indistinguishable from the other warehouses in the area. There were no windows on the ground floor and only two entrances: a wide roll-up door on the shipping and receiving dock and a smaller man-size door at the top of a small flight of stairs adjacent to the dock. Both were locked. There were also two fire escapes, but the ladders were folded up and well out of reach. The rows of windows high up in the walls were blacked out.

"Yeah, it looks pretty ordinary," Frank agreed. "They could be keeping just about anything in there."

"Should we try to break in?"

"No. Not yet anyway. I don't want to arouse their suspicions. If they did have something to do with Nancy or Jolene's disappearance, I don't want to spook them into going to ground." Frank looked around with a frown. "I'd like to watch the place, but it doesn't look like there are any good surveillance points around here."

Joe grinned. "Why don't we set up an illegal webcam?" He pointed at the neighboring building. "There's a good spot on the ledge above the window over there. I can reach it if I stand on your shoulders. I saw a sign on the coffee shop we passed just down the street that said it's a free wireless hot spot. We can hide a relay for the camera there."

"I never knew you had this dishonest streak, little brother."

"All in a good cause," Joe chuckled.

"All right, I think that's a good plan. We can get what we need at the electronics store tomorrow and set things up tomorrow night. Maybe we should get two. If it turns out that one of those guys owns a boat, we might want to set up a camera at the Marina, too."

Joe nodded. "I can get the stuff while you find out about the boat."

They headed back to Frank's car, parked a block away.

"I wonder how much of this Nancy figured out," Joe said as they strolled along casually with their hands in their pockets.

Frank shrugged. "If Quito made her suspicious the way he did us, it wouldn't surprise me if she got this far. Nancy's smart."

"That's what has me worried," Joe replied softly. "If she came to the warehouse and Quito or Surrey caught her here…"

"Yeah," Frank nodded slowly in agreement. "The more we find out, the more worried I get too. Maybe we shouldn't say anything to Mr. Drew or Ned from now on, until we know more."

Joe nodded. "I think that might be best."

-o-o-o-o-o-

"You were right," Frank announced when Joe returned from the electronics store the next morning. "I found a website for the Bayport Yacht Owners Association. They list Walter Surrey as a member in good standing since 1986. He owns a 40 foot luxury yacht called 'Pretty Boy'. And guess what else?"

"What?"

"The entire Marina is a wireless hot spot."

"No kidding?"

"Yup. The Association paid to have it installed two years ago so the owners could sit on their sun decks and surf the web."

Joe grinned. "Perfect! We can set our camera and relay up together. Here, install this." He fished a box of software out of his bag. "It's the control software for the cameras."

"Did the clerk say anything when you bought this stuff?"

"Just that this particular camera is popular with amateur pornographers," Joe replied with a grin. "Apparently, they like the gritty, peeping-tom look it gives to their videos."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I almost bought another one."

"Naughty boy." Frank took the software and returned to the computer. "By the way, Dad called. He's inviting himself over for dinner tonight. He said he misses your cooking."

"I bet he does!" Joe sat down on the couch and began unpacking the new cameras. "He's probably been living on junk food since we moved out. I'll have to go shopping later and get something good to make. We should ask him about hiring us to work for him while he's here, though. My bank account's getting low."

"I was thinking the same thing. He said he doesn't mind helping us with the rent, but I'd feel better if we were earning it, especially during the summer like this. But we could still work part-time during school."

"I agree."

Frank turned around. "Ok. Software's installed."

"Just a second." Joe finished unpacking the second relay. "We're supposed to be able to configure both cameras at the same time. Once that's done, we just have to mount the cameras and the relays and turn them on. We need to leave the computer on with the software running. It will record the output from the cameras into disk files." Frank moved aside so Joe could plug each relay and camera pair into a USB port. "We should install the cameras at the Marina this afternoon. I think it will be less conspicuous than wandering around there at night." He sat down at the computer and started typing.

"Probably so," Frank agreed. "But we'll have to do the warehouse at night. We can go up there after Dad leaves."

"Why don't you go mess up my bedroom a little bit and make it look lived in while I do this? We don't want Dad to figure out we're sleeping in the same room."

"Right!" Frank ruffled Joe's hair and went into the spare bedroom. "Man, it's dusty in here! I'll clean up first and then make a mess."

"That sounds wrong!" Joe laughed.

Frank laughed too. "I know, but Dad knows how fastidious you are about dust." He came back into the living room and looked around with his hands on his hips. "I may as well vacuum, too. This room needs it as well, anyway."

"Can you throw that trash out for me?"

"Sure." Frank gathered up the packaging from the cameras and shoved it back into the bag. "I'll take this out to the bin. How long is the configuration going to take?"

"Probably another half-hour. It's downloading software into the relays right now."

"Tell you what; after you're done there, let's clean the apartment, have lunch and then go down to the Marina."

"Sounds like a plan."

-o-o-o-o-

"This is a really nice place, guys. I'm impressed."

"Thanks, Dad." Frank had just finished giving their father a tour of the apartment. "We're pretty comfortable here and it's walking distance to a lot of places. I can save a little money by not using my car as much."

"Good thinking."

"And it's real close to campus," Joe added from the kitchen, where he was cutting a sourdough loaf into neat slices. "I should be able to make it to class on time even when I oversleep."

"I hope you're kidding," Fenton Hardy said with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, I'm kidding," Joe chuckled. "Frank will make sure I get up on time. He takes good care of me."

"What are you making?" Fenton asked. "It smells great."

"Forty clove of garlic chicken. It's from my French cookbook. It's pretty easy but it tastes great."

"When will it be ready? I'm starved."

"It's ready now." Joe put the bread in a basket and brought it to the table. "Go ahead and sit down."

Frank and Fenton took seats at the table and Joe brought in the serving dish. "I made a little extra so you can take the leftovers home with you, Dad. I do worry about how you're eating. Have you had your cholesterol checked lately?"

"Don't fuss, Joe!" Fenton admonished him. "I get regular checkups."

"Good. With you all alone in the house now…"

Fenton coughed abruptly and his cheeks reddened. "Well, about that…" Joe and Frank stared at him expectantly. "You see I, ah… I recently let a friend of mine move in. She suffered a financial setback and lost her condo so I…" His flush deepened.

"Dad," Frank said. "Give us the straight scoop."

"Well… um… she…"

"Geez, it's like pulling teeth!" Joe exclaimed. "When did you meet her? And where?"

"She's from my AA group. I met her about six months ago. We get along great, so when she got into trouble…"

"You bailed her out."

"It's just temporary. As soon as she's back on her feet, she'll get a place of her own."

"Right." Joe and Frank exchanged a look.

"Dad," Frank said firmly, "you're forty-eight years old. If you want to shack up with someone, you don't need to make excuses. We think it's great. We're glad you're not alone. We really have been worried about you."

Fenton smiled gratefully. "Thanks, guys. I was kind of worried about what you would think."

"So it looks like we moved out just in time," Joe said. "Let's eat. Now we have two things to celebrate: our new place and Dad's new roommate."

"This calls for a toast," Frank added. He winked at Fenton. "I'll break out the sparkling cider."

"You boys are great kids. I don't know where I'd be right now without all the support you've given me."

"You're our dad," Joe said warmly. "We Hardys have to look out for each other."