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listening to
Peterson's reply. "What am I supposed to do with chicken feed like that? It'll
barely cover expenses." Trask concentrated. "Okay," he said. "I'll agree to
that. You leave the five million at the drop-off point as agreed and get me
the rest in two days. You've bought that much time& but, Peterson" Trask
looked at the Hardy s.  You cross me, you even make me think you're crossing
me, and your friends are dead meat."
Trask wore a triumphant expression as he put the phone down. "I knew they'd
chicken out. They don't have enough guts to see a few lousy lives lost. That's
why tough guys like me always come out on top."
"You're on the bottom as far as I'm concerned," Joe said, and Trask shoved him
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hard.
Then the hood turned to his men and told two of them to pick up the parcel at
the drop-
off point.
"It should be there in ten minutes," he said. "Keep your eyes peeled so you re
not followed. I don't figure Peterson's going to pull a fast one.
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Still, you can't be sure. He must be getting a lot of heat from the fat cats.
They ain't into giving away their dough."
After the men left, Trask gave the rest of his crew a little pep talk. "Boys,
you've done good work for me, and when Nick Trask gets good work, he pays good
for it.
You know the dough I told you you'd get when this job was finished?
Well, I'm going to double it, just as soon as that final payment is made. Plus
all of you are going to have executive jobs in the organization I'm setting
up. You'll be kings of the city, and I don't mean the underground. We'll be
moving up in the world soon, taking over everything."
It took just twenty minutes for Trask's messengers to return with a satchel.
"Let me see that," Trask said, reaching out for it.
He turned all his attention to the satchel. Putting it on his desk, he started
unloading the contents bundle after bundle of hundred dollar bills. He counted
the bills in the first bundle, and then used that stack to measure the
thickness of all the other bundles he took out. After counting the total
number, he did a quick multiplication on a small calculator and announced,
"Five million on the nose."
But he wasn't quite finished. He took a magnifying glass from the desk drawer.
Examining two bills closely, he gave a final nod. "Good," he
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said. "Peterson didn't mark them. Guess he knows that Nick Trask is no chump."
Trask then began to load the bundles back into the satchel, casually sweeping
the two loose bills onto the floor.
When one of his men bent to pick them up, Trask said, "Don't bother, that's
small stuff.
In two days you're going to have more dough than you can stuff in your
pockets."
The thug hesitated. Then, giving the bills a quick glance, he backed off from
them."
"You guys are in the big time now," Trask told them. "You've got to learn to
think big.
But, of course, we still have to keep on our toes. That's why I'm sending you
out to make sure the cops don't try to find this place. You already know your
guard posts, so get to them fast. Make sure nobody sneaks by you."
Trask waited until the last of his men had left. Then, with his gun covering
the
Hardy s, he went to the door and locked it. Next he bent over; picked up the
hundred-
dollar bills he had grandly swept to the floor, and stuck them into his
wallet.
"Never know when a couple of hundred will come in handy," he said, "though I
won't really need them. Not with the rest of this pile here."
Moving to the satchel stuffed with money, he snapped it closed. Then he picked
it up, testing its weight.
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"Not as heavy as I thought," he said. "I'll be able to make good time with
it."
The Hardy s looked at one another.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Frank asked his dad.
"The thought crossed my mind," he answered.
"What are you two talking . . . oh, I see what you mean," Joe said. He shook
his head at
Trask. "Hey, Nick, I'm surprised at you. You wouldn't be thinking of stealing
that five million would you?"
Trask's grin grew even wider. "You Hardy s are smart, aren't you? Sure, I'm
getting out while the getting is good and the coast is clear. Five million
will do me just fine."
"If there's one thing I've learned in this case," said Joe, smiling ruefully,
"it's never to believe that stuff you hear about honor among thieves. Crooks
are crooks, and that's it."
"Hey, I'm glad you wised up," said Trask. "It's a real shame you won't be able
to use what you've learned. The problem is, all you Hardy s know too much, and
you just can't stay alive."
He leveled his gun at Joe, Frank, and Fenton Hardy, making a sweeping motion
in front of their faces.
"Okay, let's not waste time," he said. "Which one of you wants to get it
first?"
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Chapter 16
THE HARDYS LOOKED at one another, each hoping the others would see a way out.
But all they saw were helpless expressions.
"Hey, don't look so down in the dumps. I'm being a nice guy," Trask mocked.
"I'm letting you choose what order you want to die in. So don't waste my time,
or I'll let my gun do the deciding.
"
Before Frank or Joe could make a move, their dad stepped forward. He was
shielding them now and looking up at Trask.
.
"Hey, that's nice, Fenton, real nice," said
Trask. "You've lived a lot longer than your kids, so now you're going to give
them some extra time. I'm sure they'll appreciate it for the rest of their
lives, all one minute more."
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Then Trask paused, as if having second thoughts. "But maybe I shouldn't waste
you first. I mean, it might be fun making you watch your own two kids get it."
But Trask didn't have the pleasure of watching Fenton Hardy plead or squirm.
He stood in front of Trask without wavering, his gaze level and hard. Finally,
Trask shrugged, tiring of his game. "Okay, Fenton, I'll be Mr. Nice Guy. You
get it first, and you can just think of what your kids will feel like when
they watch you go."
Trask extended his arm. He aimed directly at the center of Fenton Hardy's
forehead. At a distance of less than four feet, there wasn't a chance in the
world of his missing the target.
Hardy, lips drawn tight, stared into the gun barrel without flinching.
'
Frank and Joe felt sick to their stomachs. They couldn't hear to watch what
was going to happen, yet they couldn't tear their eyes away from their last
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look at their dad.
Trask's eyes shone happily. "I won't say it's been nice knowing you, Fenton.
But it's sure going to be nice killing-"
To Frank and Joe, braced for horror, the sound of the phone ringing was louder
than a pistol shot.
Task was startled as well. His gun hand held steady, but his face swiveled
around to look at the ringing phone.
That was all Fenton Hardy needed. He lunged
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for Trask's gun, grabbing the barrel with both hands and using every ounce of
his strength to wrench it from his iron grip.
But that still left Trask's other hand free-free enough to' smash into Fenton
Hardy's jaw. Still clutching the gun, he crashed backward against a wall, and
then collapsed in a heap.
Trask snickered loudly and went after Hardy, his hand out to snatch the gun
back.
But before he could take two steps, Joe hit him around the knees in a perfect
low tackle. Joe had brought down charging fullbacks with tackles just like it.
But all he succeeded in doing then was stopping Trask's forward movement.
The guy's built like a brick wall, was the only thing Joe had time to think [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]