Frank ran a few steps after the car that had disappeared into the night. Clenching his fists, he turned back to the officers. Collig had already taken charge.
"Di Salvo, run to the nearest payphone. Get Clayton to come down here as fast as possible. Hopefully now that we're away from the station the call won't be monitored."
"Finch, try to get a taxi-"
Frank stopped listening. He was examining the silver car. It was a Ford model A. It had certainly been well cared for, as it shone brightly, even as it was wrapped around a telephone pole.
Frank noticed a gleam among the rubble on the ground. A small pistol. Maybe from Joe, or Specs had a spare that he had dropped. Frank picked it up and pocketed it. It might come in handy later.
There didn't seem to be anything else helpful at the scene. The streets were quiet. Perhaps any other occupants of the neighborhood were scared off by the gunfire.
All occupants except one, it seemed. A black car was barreling towards the corner. It pulled up alongside them.
A young man sat in the driver seat. He looked good natured but stressed. The reasoning was apparent- he was covered in blood.
"Officers!" The man called out to them. "There's been a robbery and a kidnapping."
Well that was too coincidental for one night. "What's your name?" Frank asked.
"Sam Radley." He looked at Frank strangely. "Holy cow, are you Frank Hardy?"
Frank nodded. "Specs just drove off with Joe. We think we know where they're going."
"Get in." Sam said.
Frank immediately complied, but the police officers waited for Collig. There was not enough room in Sam's car.
Collig would likely want the three police officers to get in the car and want the two civilians to stay behind. Frank saw a quick battle rage across the man's features, but finally, Collig scowled and got into the car.
"Stay here," he told the other two officers. "Wait for Clayton and then meet us at pier 11 as fast as you can."
He settled back and told Sam, "Punch it."
Sam put the car in gear and sped down the street.
Sam explained what had happened at the Hardy's house. "It took a little bit to get the dead man off of me. He's still in your front entryway, Frank."
Sam turned east, towards the pier. "I got outside just to see Joe clinging to his car, driving away. I tried to catch up to them, but lost it pretty quick. Then I heard the shots. Frankly, I expected the worst."
Frank stared out the window. "We heard the shots too. We were only a block away, so we caught up quickly. Specs tried to cut us off, but he ended up crashing the car. Joe was thrown. He's injured, but I don't know how badly."
"So how did Specs get away?"
Frank couldn't answer. His mouth was dry and his throat hurt like mad.
"He used Joe as a hostage," Collig answered with a growl. "There wasn't much we could do, but let him take our guns and drive our car away. Demmed stupid way to handle the situation."
Collig added as an afterthought, "Of course, Joe had no business being on that car in the first place."
Frank felt a surge of anger. "I guess he was just too busy doing your job to worry about his own safety," he said hotly.
Collig stiffened. "Listen kid, I didn't know about Baxter-"
"Well maybe you should have!"
"You have no idea what you're saying. We had to take orders-"
"Orders? What could posses a whole force-"
Sam cut them both with a quiet voice that cut through the argument more effectively than a yell.
"Cool down, both of you. We'll find them, but arguing won't help in the meantime."
That silenced Frank and Collig. They both stared grimly forward. Within minutes they reached the docks. Sam deftly steered as close to pier 11 as possible.
A familiar paddy wagon was illuminated by moonlight. They parked right behind it and jumped out of their car.
Sam circled the police vehicle, but Frank and Collig ran towards the waters edge.
A boat was driving away from Bayport. Frank could see the retreating lights and the churned water left in its wake.
Collig swore. Notwithstanding their argument, Frank agreed completely.
"The boat's gone," Collig turned back and told Sam.
Sam strode up to them. "The car is empty. No guns, no sign of Joe."
"There's nothing more we can do without getting the mess at the police station sorted out," Collig said. "We need to call the coast guard."
Frank looked in despair at the retreating lights. "There has to be something we can do."
"There is. We'll wait for the officers, then reclaim the police force. We'll contact federal authorities regardless of any problems with the phone company. We'll shut them down, if we have to."
"But Joe-"
Collig was cold as ice. "The coast guard will conduct a search. They have a strong presence here trying to track rum runners. There's no way a fancy yacht can lose them."
Frank wanted to hit the man. "How can you give up-"
Collig faced him and cut him off with a poke to the chest. "I know, Frank, I know. But there is more here at stake than your family. This whole town is threatened and our first priority needs to be functioning law enforcement. We'll do what we can for Joe, but right now we need to sort out the police. Understand?"
Frank didn't meet Collig's eyes. "Fine." He mumbled.
Collig addressed Sam. "I'll stay until the officers get here. We'll send some men to the Hardy residence and take care of that body. Come down to the station tomorrow, and we'll have someone take your statement. In the meantime, take him home."
Sam didn't speak for a moment. He seemed to be analyzing what Collig had said. "Alright," he finally said. "Frank?"
Frank didn't speak or look at either of them, but silently got into Sam's car once more.
He was so tired and worn out. His neck ached and his heart hurt. But Joe and his father were in danger. If Stokes found out that Joe knew where the folder was, what would he do to get it? Would he kill Fenton, now that he wasn't needed? Or would he just cut his losses, and kill both of them?
Frank shut his eyes hard, trying to get the image of Joe collapsed on the street out of his mind.
Sam got into the driver seat. "We'll go after them tomorrow, Frank." He said quietly. "It will be easier to find them in the daytime, anyway."
Frank didn't open his eyes. He didn't feel like addressing his quickly dying hope.
Sam started the car and pulled into the road. They quietly drove, passing the piers beside them.
Frank opened his eyes, and saw the sign for pier 6 pass by.
"Stop the car." He said in a serious voice.
Sam did so. "What is it? Did you see something?"
Frank opened the car door. "I'll walk home, thanks."
He walked around the car towards pier 6. There was still a chance he could get to Joe.
"Hey, wait!" Sam called from behind him. "Where are you going?"
Sam caught up to him and grabbed his arm. "Frank-"
Frank wrenched his arm out of Sam's grasp. "I'm going after my family, with or without police help."
His voice echoed off the boats surrounding them.
"You have a boat?" Sam asked quietly.
"I know where one is." Frank replied.
"And what are you going to do when you catch up to that yacht? Board it? Save the day?"
Frank swallowed. "Stokes doesn't need both of them, Sam." His voice broke. " I'm going to lose my father or my brother tonight, and I'm not going to sit here while that happens. I'm going after them-"
Frank took a breath. "-Either to save them or die with them."
"What about your mother? What is she going to do if she loses her whole family?"
Frank blinked back tears. "But what if I could save them? How could I forgive myself if I don't take that chance?"
Sam threw his arms up in the air. "It's suicide, Frank! What could one man do against a boat full of criminals?"
Frank just shrugged, hopelessly. He turned away from Sam and towards the Morton's little motorboat. He climbed aboard and began untying its moorings.
He made the mistake of looking up at Sam. The man was standing at the dock, staring at Frank.
Frank huffed and went back to the ropes. He had to do this. The coast guard and police were just too slow. There was no time.
He reached out to push the boat away from the dock, and saw a pair of brown shoes in front of him.
He looked up, and Sam jumped down into the boat with him. Sam started maneuvering the ropes as well.
"What are you doing?" Frank asked, stunned.
Sam frowned. "I'm coming to help you." He pushed the boat away from the dock. "But I am not leaving this boat. My wife and unborn child need me, so I will be the driver- nothing more."
Frank could have laughed in relief. "Thank you," he said with as much sincerity as he ever had.
Sam just shrugged.
That was probably for the best. Frank turned to the locked cabin door. He took a deep breath, and elbowed the glass window. It shattered and he reached in for the door knob.
Sam looked aghast. "I thought this was your boat?"
"I said I knew where one was. This one belongs to some friends of mine. I'll pay them back for the damage and fuel."
Sam was clearly already regretting his decision to come, but Frank continued, businesslike, with the theft of the Morton's boat. He strode up to the controls and turned the engine over. It rumbled to life, and Frank saw with relief that the fuel gauge read full. Boat fuel gauges were notoriously inaccurate, but Mr. Morton did seem the type to keep his boat ready and waiting.
Frank could see Sam continuing preparations on the deck of the boat surrounding the cabin. He was immeasurably grateful for the man's help. Frank readjusted his grip on the cold metal wheel. Taking a deep breath he led the boat out of the pier and into open water.