Chapter VII
"I want to check on Callie."
"Great." agreed Joe as he pressed the elevator button for their floor. "That gives me dibs on the shower." They were beginning to feel warm again, the problem being that as they warmed, their muscles relaxed into sleep. Frank rubbed at his eyes for the hundredth time and knocked on Callie's door. It was opened almost immediately by Callie, looking bright-faced and excited.
"Frank!" she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I was just going to stop over! I had the best time last night!"
Frank smiled. Some of his tiredness left him just looking at her eager, happy expression. "I'm glad."
"How about you? How did you make out? Wait a minute - " she took a step backward to get a better look at his outfit. "Don't tell me you guys knocked off to go shopping. Or are you undercover as tourists?"
"Something like that." She heard the note of weariness in his voice and removed the hat that shadowed his face.
"Ouch," she said, taking a closer look. "What on earth happened?" She slipped her arm through his and walked with him to his hotel room while Frank briefly recounted their adventures of the night before. Callie shuddered and pressed closer to him when he described their night in the isolation hole.
"Ugh. I don't think I could have stood that. I hated Alcatraz - it gave me the creeps."
Frank grinned at the memory. "Joe too. But don't tell him I said so."
"Don't worry, I won't. I'm sympathetic. Maybe we have more in common than I thought."
"The problem isn't that you're so different. The problem is that you're so much alike." Frank opened the door. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable? I've got to drag Joe out of the shower while there's still some hot water left."
"I still think you guys should catch a few Zs," repeated Callie, watching with awe as they put away huge breakfasts in the coffee shop.
Frank shook his head and bit his toast. "No time. We bought ourselves a couple of hours leaving him on Alcatraz, but he could be back by 10:30. And since he knows we're on the loose instead of fish food, he might speed up his agenda. We need to be at the Opera House."
"If you say so, but I think you guys look pretty wasted."
"Are you kidding? After a shower and a full stomach, not to mention my own clothes, I feel like a new man. Don't even think about it, Joe." Frank deftly avoided Joe's hovering fork. "If you're still hungry, order something else. And try chewing, for a change. "
"Don't blame me," Joe protested. "It's all this sea air and exercise before breakfast that's worked up my appetite."
"I'll admit that there's nothing like an early morning dip to make you hungry," Frank agreed. He smiled at the waitress who came by to refresh their coffee. "We'll take the check, please. And a cheese danish to go for this guy."
Callie sighed dramatically. "Well, I can see you're all jazzed up to catch the bad guys, so I guess there's no talking to you. Let's go see what kind of cover Alissa's come up with for you."
They were amazed to see a line of people reaching out of the Opera House door.
Callie stared. "I forgot about the necklace being on display! I guess we'd better use the stage entrance. Though I'd love to see it," she added wistfully.
"I'm sure Alissa will get you a viewing." said Frank hurriedly, steering her around the building, toward the stage door. "Right now we've got to get in place."
"So we can hurry up and wait." said Callie. "Are you going to be like this all day?"
"Probably," put in Joe with a grin. They slipped through the stage door without exciting notice, and went in search of Alissa.
They didn't find Alissa until they had made their way back to the lobby. She was standing with a clipboard, trying to exercise some crowd control, but she smiled when she saw them. After a short, whispered conversation with the security guard, she made her way towards them. "You guys are bright and early! Some mad house, huh? Come with me and I'll show you the cover I worked out for you."
They followed her through some corridors and up a few flights of stairs into a large storage room filled with clothing racks. When they were out of earshot of everyone, they told her the story of their night on Alcatraz. By the time they were finished, her face was white.
"I can't believe it!" she exclaimed. "I just can't believe that Jerry tried to kill you!"
"He might have been trying to keep you out of the way." said Callie doubtfully.
"Yeah, and our friend with the skiff was just stopping by to make sure we were comfortable." said Joe sarcastically. "What's our cover?"
Alissa shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe this is just too dangerous. I think I should tell Gabby I've changed my mind and then we should go to the police with the whole thing."
"You can't!" Joe protested. "You'll tip them off! And if you tell the cops, they'll grab Jerry and Gabby and the brains of the outfit will get away! We can't take the chance, Alissa!"
"I can't take the chance on something happening to one of you, or to the Romanov Rose! I'd always feel responsible!"
"Look, we can take care of ourselves! We just escaped from Alcatraz, didn't we?"
"Joe has a point, Alissa," said Frank evenly. "We have some experience in this kind of thing. We've been fine so far, and it's not like they've made it easy for us. Take a chance and trust us. What do you say?"
"It's true, Alissa," Callie put in. "They've pulled off cases tougher than this one."
Alissa looked from one to the other, then sighed deeply. "I don't know what's gotten into me. Trusting a matter of national importance to a trio of teen detectives."
"You won't regret it," Joe offered a charming grin. "I promise. Now. About that cover."
"Ah." Alissa walked over to one of the racks of clothing. "We borrowed this collection part and parcel from the Met, so there are a few extras..." She pulled an outfit off the rack and eyeballed it. "Hm. That might be long enough. Try it." She tossed it to Frank. "And let's see..." she held one up to Joe, shook her head. "Never make it in the shoulders. Problem is, neither one of you is built like the average opera singer. How about...try this one."
Frank was glancing around. "Where do we change?"
"Here." Alissa smiled. "Performers get pretty used to changing their clothes in front of each other, but if you're feeling modest, you can duck behind those racks." Frank and Joe went behind a rack of long, heavy dresses and struggled with the strange outfits. They helped each other with the fastenings, then looked at one another.
"You've got to be kidding," said Joe.
"Come out and let me see." Alissa ordered. Reluctantly, they moved out from behind the rack. Alissa held out two bowl-like hats she had pulled off the shelf, eyeing them critically. "Not too bad. Here." She put a hat on each of them and stepped back to look again. They looked at one another and burst out laughing.
"What are we supposed to be?" gasped Frank, when he could get his breath.
"Soldiers. You can blend in with the chorus, who will be milling around backstage. You'll look like you belong, but you won't be immediately recognizable. The helmets ought to shadow your faces. Let's see. You'll each need a sword, shoes, and tights."
"Tights?" repeated Joe, staring down at his pantaloons with another grin of amusement.
"That's right. I brought tapes of the music so you'll know what scenes you're supposed to be in."
Frank froze. "We don't have to go onstage..."
"No, no - I want to make sure you duck out of sight at the right times so some well-meaning stage hand doesn't force you to go on." She was digging through a drawer marked "tights" as she spoke, and turned from checking a pair to glance at Callie. "There are swords in that umbrella stand over there, Callie- pull me two with their belts, will you?"
"Won't the other chorus members know we don't belong?" asked Joe, hitching up his pantaloons, which were big in the waist.
Alissa tossed him a pair of tights. "I doubt it. We've borrowed a lot of singers for this Gala, and it's the beginning of the season. There are lots of newcomers. Just keep a low profile. If someone asks where you sang last, say something obscure, like Sydney, Australia."
Callie handed Joe a sword hanging from a belt, and fastened Frank's around his hips. She looked at him, her eyes twinkling. "Personally, I think you look very dashing. Wait till you see me in my angel gear."
Joe tried walking without stepping on his sword. "We have to wear this stuff all day?"
Alissa laughed. "You'd look pretty silly wearing a costume at this hour for a show with a five-thirty call and an eight o'clock curtain. You can hang out here today, wherever you like. With all the crowds and confusion you won't be noticed, and I'll vouch for you if I have to. Not that I think anyone's going to make a try for that necklace with a line consisting of half of San Francisco snaking around it. At five-thirty sharp you go to the dressing room and get into these. I'll show you where."
Frank started unbuttoning his full-sleeved jacket in marked relief. "Can we look around the backstage area and get familiar with it?"
Alissa glanced at her watch. "I don't see why not. There probably won't be any techies on hand yet. Just promise me you'll keep in mind that Jerry is king back there and could show up at any time." They promised that they would and followed her, with their costumes on hangers, to the dressing room. Alissa showed them where to hang them and handed each a walkman and cassette. "Find a chance to listen to these. Callie, you're on for real, so don't forget." she studied them, her forehead puckered. "You'll be careful?"
Joe gave her a reassuring grin. "You bet. And we always land on our feet."
Frank looked up from tinkering with the walkman. "You've been great, Alissa. You're good at this work. You really think of everything."
Alissa's mouth tugged into a half-smile. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind, in case I bomb tonight. I'll be back to dress for Lise. Some debut!"
The Hardys let Callie guide them through the backstage area she had become familiar with the night before, including the dressing rooms. What quickly became clear was that there were about a thousand places in a theater to conceal someone or something.
"Well, okay," said Joe, as they sat in the Green Room, a place where the performers rested between scenes, feeling overwhelmed. "So we can't stake out everywhere. All we really need is to stake out the jewels. And I don't see how anybody is going to steal them in front of all those people."
"Me either," Frank admitted. "But they must have something in mind."
"Well, so do I. What do you say we knock off for lunch? I'm -"
"Starved," Callie finished for him. "Well, I'm hungry myself. We could eat at that place where Alissa took us yesterday."
"You guys go ahead. I'm going to stay with the jewels."
Joe gaped at him. "You don't think anybody is going to try anything with that armed guard and a couple hundred tourists standing there?"
"Not really," said Frank slowly. "I really think the only time to do it is backstage. I'd just feel better. I've been suckered one too many times on this one."
"Okay." Joe stood and stretched. "In that case, we'll pick up some sandwiches and we can all eat here. Just stay as much out of sight as you can. Remember, Gabby knows you, Jerry knows you, and somebody we don't know knows you." Frank nodded as they headed for the door. As he made his way toward the lobby, Joe's warning echoed unpleasantly in his ears.
He found a comfortable spot against a wall by a pillar where he could see the glass case with the jewels...at least, he could see where it was, since it was pretty well blocked by the bodies of the viewers. He noticed a series of surveillance cameras going, and wondered if they were standard equipment, or specially installed for the occasion. Grey jacketed security men seemed to be everywhere.
He felt a little silly. His watchful eye seemed kind of superfluous under the circumstances, but they probably weren't expecting trouble, and he definitely was.
The line moved in slow tedium and the security guards paced their rounds monotonously. Frank crossed his arms over his chest and yawned. The rigors of the night and his one hour sleep were catching up with him. He wished Joe and Callie would hurry back with those sandwiches.
"...very impressive. And very gratifying. It is good to be able to meet on this ground at last."
Frank started violently. He realized with disgust that, once again, he had been almost asleep, and shook himself slightly. The voice came from nearby, almost in front of him. He leaned against the pillar, listening.
"I have sent flowers to Kareechniva. She should be celebrated by her homeland tonight as well." His heart beat thunderously in his chest, and his knees turned to water.
He knew that voice. There was no mistaking it.
That soft, faintly accented tone was the same one that had warned him there was a gun in his ribs. The same one that had ordered him to the big, blue Lincoln. The same one that had calmly spoken of insulin as he had injected him with something that wasn't insulin at all.
It was Cobra.
TBC