A/N: Thank you Diogenes and Leya for the feedback! I see you are in Frank's camp, Diogenes. He is unattached in this story, so he can be yours, if you'd like. LOL Also, just a note for those not familiar with the 70s TV version of the "The Hardy Boys"…This story takes place at what would be the beginning of Season 3. I never quite bought the idea that the Department of Justice hired two college kids to work as agents, so this story is my version of the direction I would have liked the series to take. (My apologies to Glen Larson Productions and Universal. I own nothing of theirs.) Also, it is set in 1979, so no computers, cell phones or other modern technology to help them solve the crime. In addition, the canon for the show has Laura Hardy deceased and Aunt Gertrude living with the family to help raise the boys. Frank is sweet on Nancy Drew, but Joe never had a steady girlfriend. Callie Shaw is Fenton's office assistant, but not romantically involved with Frank. Chet Morton is a character, but Iola is not mentioned in the show. Vanessa Bender does not exist. Thanks again to all who are reading!

Chapter 4

"And you found his body like that? His head buried up to his shoulders in plaster?" Fenton Hardy asked, as he put a heaping pile of spaghetti on his plate, later that evening in the Hardy kitchen.

"Oh, Fenton, really!" his sister Gertrude, older by ten years, scolded. "Do all our dinner conversations have to revolve around criminals and dead bodies?"

Fenton smiled. "They do when you live in a house full of detectives."

Gertrude frowned as she passed a bowl of salad to a grinning Frank.

"We'll try and stick to the sanitized version, Aunt Gertrude," he said, taking the bowl from her and placing a generous portion on his plate.

"Dad, can you do a background check on Professor Ayres?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, I can get a criminal check done, if that's what you want."

"I think we need to probe more into his personal life," Frank said. "I doubt the man has a record. The university never would have hired him."

"You two should head to the campus library tonight," Fenton advised. "Check out the newspaper archives."

"It's already on my list," Frank said. "Along with driving by his residence. Maybe talking to a neighbor or two."

"I want to know what Collig found on the museum security tapes," Joe added, popping a meatball in his mouth. "I don't think you can drag a dead body through a museum without someone seeing you."

"Joseph!" Gertrude exclaimed.

Joe grinned at her. "Sorry. But, I just don't see how anyone could have killed him there. That room was an echo chamber, not to mention it had nothing but a curtain dividing it from the rest of the museum."

"Yeah," Frank agreed. "And I'm sure the professor would have put up a fight. Someone would have noticed."

"A gunshot would have been heard. A fight would have been heard." Joe took a sip of his soft drink. "He had to have killed him somewhere else."

"And, we still don't really know how he was murdered," Frank said, "since we could only see half the body." He paused, a fork twirled with spaghetti at his lips. "Can you get that from Collig, Dad?"

"If the coroner is finished with the report," Fenton said, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "It might take awhile."

"Yeah, especially since they had to chip the guy's head out of a wheelbarrow full of hardened plaster," Joe added.

"I have heard enough!" Gertrude rose from her chair, glaring at her brother and nephews. "You three have ruined a perfectly delicious meal. Again." She picked up her plate and left the room.

Fenton, Frank and Joe exchanged guilty looks. Then Joe cleared his throat. "Can you pass me the rolls, Dad?"

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

"So, what did you think of Professor Ayres?" Frank asked his brother as they walked through the doors of the Bayport library an hour later.

Joe shrugged his shoulders. "He was okay. Humanities 101 is a lecture class with over two hundred students in it. I didn't get to know him personally or anything like that."

Frank started up the stairs to the second floor. "Well, how did he seem in class? Anxious or angry at all? Worried?"

"None of those things." Joe paused as they approached the reference section, trying to recall his professor's behavior in class. "If I had to describe him, I'd probably say he seemed bored."

Frank leaned against the counter by the "newspaper back issues" section. "That's interesting. Do you know how long he's been teaching here?"

"A couple of years, I think. At least that's what I remember him saying at the beginning of the semester."

Frank nodded. "Well, let's start three years back to make sure. Yell out if you find something."

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

"Hi, Stacey," Emily greeted her roommate as she dropped her backpack near the kitchen table.

"Hi, yourself," Stacey remarked as she turned from the counter, holding a mug filled with something steamy and hot.

"That looks wonderful," Emily said. "Do you have an extra?"

Stacey smiled and handed her the mug. "Cocoa. Just for you."

"Mmmm," Emily replied, bringing the drink up to her mouth and inhaling the rich, chocolate scent. "Thanks, it's exactly what I need. It's been a rough day."

"So I heard," Stacey sat at the table and kicked out the chair opposite her. "Have a seat. Tell me all about the murder."

Emily's eyes widened. "How did you know? Is it on the news already?"

"I'm sure it is, but I haven't turned the TV on." She smiled. "Two detectives came by here looking for you a couple of hours ago. Two very cute detectives."

Emily sat the cocoa down and eyed her roommate warily. "Their names didn't happen to be Frank and Joe?"

"As a matter of fact...yes." Stacey was still smiling. "And, Joe seemed particularly interested in finding you."

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. Just that you were out. And, I didn't tell him that 'out' meant your usual table on the third floor of the library."

"Good." Emily sipped her cocoa.

"Good? That's all you're going to say?"

"Stacey, those guys are detectives. A man...not just any man, but a professor I knew...was murdered in cold blood right here on campus. And, it was horrible. I don't really want to think about it anymore, and they want to ask me questions."

"So what? I'm assuming you didn't kill him..."

Emily rolled her eyes.

"Then why avoid them? They're both very good looking." She gave Emily a pointed look.

"My position on men hasn't changed, Stace. I can't get involved with a guy right now. I have too much at stake." She took another sip of her cocoa. "Dating is a distraction I can't afford."

"Get real," Stacey said. "How is going on a date going to railroad your plans for running the Louvre someday?"

"I can't take the chance that I'll fall for someone. Not this semester. It's the most critical of my whole four years. If I blow it now, I won't get accepted into the program, I won't get to study in France, and I'll have no hope of getting hired at the museums where I want to work. I have to have experience in a European museum for them to even consider me." She took another sip of her drink.

Stacey sighed, crossing her arms in front of her. "I'm not buying any of this. Every guy is not like Rick."

"I didn't say anything about Rick. And, I really do need to concentrate on my major." She set her mug down. "It's a hard field for women to break into. Most museum boards and auction houses are run by rich old men, who think young women are only good for bringing them coffee and doing other favors. If you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean, but I don't think dating is an issue."

"It is," Emily sighed. "It makes me look like my main focus is something other than my work."

Stacey rolled her eyes.

"To the museum director and the head of the internship program, it does." Emily tapped the table for emphasis. "Last semester, they denied an internship to Becca Holt because she wanted to wait and find out if her boyfriend was accepted into a 'study abroad' for his major before she'd choose between a French or Italian museum."

"Well, that was stupid of her."

"Yes, it was. But Mr. Perriton's response was, 'We don't need girls who have boyfriends applying for these positions at all. It causes too much trouble.'" Emily ran her fingertip around the top of her mug. "He said it to her, but the message was loud and clear for the rest of us. Two other girls dropped out of the major a week later."

Stacey leaned back against the kitchen counter. "I'm not saying he has to be your boyfriend. I just think you need to go out on a date once in awhile. Have some fun. You're in college for crying out loud. Quit acting like you're fifty years old or something." She gestured wildly with her arms. "Let loose occasionally."

Emily brought her empty mug over to the sink and filled it with water. "And you think Joe Hardy is who I should 'let loose' with?"

"I don't know. Maybe, maybe not. I just think you need to get out of that creepy museum basement every so often and have a good time."

Emily washed the mug and set it in the dish drainer. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I have gotten a little...boring."

"I know I'm right."

"I'll think about it." Emily reached for her backpack. "Thanks for the cocoa. I've got to hit the sack. I'm exhausted."

Stacey smiled as her roommate headed out of the kitchen. "And, I need to have a little talk with Joe Hardy," she murmured into her mug.

OOOOOoooooOOOOO

"Hey, Joe?" Frank called, as he flipped through the microfilmed pages of newspaper on the screen in front of him.

"Got something?" his brother asked from his position in front of another screen.

"It's a little blurb in the University newspaper announcing Professor Ayres appointment to the faculty."

Joe stood up and peered over Frank's shoulder.

"Anything interesting?"

"Not particularly. Just background information. He was hired a little over two years ago. He'd been working at State with Art History and Humanities students in their study abroad program."

Joe nodded. "He does that here, too. He spends the spring semester in London and Paris."

"It says he's fifty-six years old, single and completely devoted to instilling a love of fine arts in young people." Frank sighed. "Sounds like a model citizen."

"Yeah," Joe said slowly. "Let's dig around a little more. Even Al Capone looked like a model citizen on paper."

Frank nodded. "I agree."

Joe sat back down in the wooden chair and inserted another strip of microfilm into the reader. As he scanned through newspapers from the last year, an article on him and Frank apprehending a local man running an illegal gambling ring popped up. Nice photo of me, crappy one of Frank. He grinned and moved to the next page. "Frank?"

This time it was Frank's turn to peer over a shoulder. "Look at this." Joe pointed to a small article buried in the back pages of the 'Bayport Gazette'.

"Local professor can't get funding for art exhibit," Frank read.

"Guess which exhibit?" Joe looked up at his brother. "The one on Scottish clans that's going in the museum right now."

Frank quickly scanned the article. "This was written only four months ago."

"How did he go from no funding to having the artifacts shipped so quickly?"

"I don't know," Frank said. "It says here he needed close to half a million dollars to do this."

"Why so much?"

"I'm guessing the artifacts are pretty valuable, Joe. It would cost a fortune to ship and insure them."

"That's a lot of money in such a short time."

Frank nodded. "Maybe Professor Ayres wasn't as much of a model citizen as he appeared to be."