Read Mystery of the Phantom Heist Online

Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

Mystery of the Phantom Heist (6 page)

“The captain of the girls’ basketball team?” Carolyn gasped excitedly. “What are you waiting for? Spill!”

“Tony doesn’t want to hear this,” Iola said, smiling at Tony. “Come on, Carolyn. I’ll tell you the whole story in the restroom.”

“I’m there,” Carolyn said, already halfway out of the booth. “I’ll be right back, Tony.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony said. He barely looked up from his lobster burger as Carolyn followed Iola up the aisle to the back.

“I can see who has the brains in the family!” Joe teased Chet.

“But I have the good looks!” Chet joked.

“Yeah, right,” I said, smirking. “Joe, let’s go over to Tony’s table and see what we can get.”

“What about me?” Chet asked.

“Stay here and make sure nobody eats our burgers,” I said.

“Just let ’em try!” Chet chuckled.

Tony looked surprised as we slipped into his booth. “Hey. What’s up?” he asked.

“I’ll cut to the chase,” I said quietly. “It’s about the bandanna in your jacket pocket.”

Tony’s eyes darted over to his jacket. “Wh-what bandanna?” he asked with a stammer. “It must be one of my gloves.”

Joe shook his head and said, “Bandannas have looked the same since the Wild West.”

“Come on, Tony,” I said. “Are you one of those Scaredevils?”

Tony’s eyes flew wide open. He leaned across the table and whispered, “I don’t belong to any gang, if that’s what you’re saying.”

I pointed at the scratch under Tony’s eye. “Then how did you get that?” I asked.

Joe was already running the fight video as he held the tablet in Tony’s face. “Is this how?” he asked.

Tony stared straight at the video. “How did you find that?” he asked.

“Special delivery,” Joe replied. “Were you the sender, Tony?”

Shaking his head, Tony said, “No, it must have been—”

Tony stopped midsentence.

“It must have been who?” I asked.

“Um . . . it must have been . . . someone else,” Tony finished lamely.

“Come on, Tony, throw us a bone,” Joe groaned. “Can’t you give us a name?”

Tony hunched forward. “No, I can’t.”

“But you are in the Scaredevils?” Joe said.

Tony groaned as if to say,
Give me a break
. Then he whispered, “Yeah, I’m in the Scaredevils, but not because I want to trash Bayport.”

Joe and I exchanged confused looks. Why else would someone join that gang unless they wanted to make trouble?

“I’m in it for the money,” Tony said.

“Money?” I repeated.

“You’re getting paid to do all that stuff?” Joe asked, just as surprised as I was.

“We all are,” Tony explained. “Look, I am sick of wiping down dirty tables five days a week. The other day someone barfed up a whole—”

“Spare me the gross details,” Joe said.

“And now I can finally get out,” Tony said. “Why do you think I asked Carolyn here? For once I wanted to be able to sit back, relax, and order the most expensive stuff on the menu, like I always saw everybody else do.”

Tony reached into his pocket. He pulled out a shiny silver phone and held it up. “And check out the sweet phone I was able to buy after the fight. With my busboy job it would have taken me weeks to be able to afford this,” he continued.

“Yeah, okay, nice phone,” Joe said. “Question is—who’s been paying you and the other Scaredevils to trash Bayport?”

Tony placed his phone on the table. He leaned back and shook his head. “Sorry, guys,” he said. “Can’t tell.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“The guy said he’d wipe tables with my face if I did,” Tony said nervously. “Not worth it!”

I looked sideways at Joe, who was gazing out the window. He had to be as frustrated as I was. We’d finally pinned down a member of the Scaredevils—but he was too scared to rat on his leader.

“Uh-oh,” Joe said, interrupting my thoughts. “Hey, Tony.”

“What?” Tony asked.

Joe pointed at the window. “Is that your car out there getting keyed?” he asked.

“Someone’s keying my car?” Tony cried.

In a flash, Tony was running up the aisle and out of the Chomp and Chew.

“Come on, Joe,” I said, starting to stand. “We’d better help Tony—”

“Sit down,” Joe said, picking up Tony’s phone. “Now, how do you read texts on this thing?”

Texts?

“Oh, so that’s your plan,” I said with a grin. I turned to Chet and called, “Look out the window and let us know when Tony’s coming back!”

Chet didn’t ask why. He just nodded, a sweet potato fry dangling from his mouth.

“This is kind of like my tablet,” Joe said as his fingers worked Tony’s phone. “Got the texts. Now let’s play Find the Ringleader.”

“How will we know who he is?” I asked.

Joe leaned forward so I could see the phone too.

“We’ll know him when we see him,” Joe said. He scrolled down the texts until he reached one that read: GJ!! PU $$. “This is it!”

“Whaaaa?” I said.

I wasn’t totally clueless when it came to texting—but this one was about as clear as ancient hieroglyphics.

“Allow me to translate,” Joe said. “It says, ‘Good job! Pick up cash.’ ”

“That’s got to be the guy who’s paying off the Scaredevils,” I said. “Does it say who sent it?”

“Someone called Sylvester, C,” Joe read. He looked at me questionably. “Sylvester, C . . . Sylvester, C—”

“Colin!” I blurted out as it hit me. “Joe, the text was sent by Colin Sylvester.”

THE WARNING
8
JOE

C
OLIN SYLVESTER?” I SAID, STARING AT
the phone. “He’s the ringleader of the Scaredevils?”

“He was creeping around our school right after the Scaredevils hit,” Frank said. “And if anyone has the cash to pay up, it’s Colin.”

“Heads up, you guys,” Chet hissed. “Tony’s coming back.”

“Drop the phone, Joe,” Frank said.

“Wait,” I said, my fingers fumbling on the keypad. “I have to close the texts.”

After I did, I placed Tony’s new phone on the table exactly where he’d left it. It was a cool phone—until we found out how he got it!

“Remember,” Frank said. “Pretend to act concerned about his car.”

Leaning forward and scrunching my eyebrows, I put on my best “worried” face. “So?” I asked as Tony slipped back into the booth. “How’s the car?”

“Nobody keyed it,” Tony said with a relieved smile. “You must have been seeing things, Hardy.”

“Hey,” Frank said. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Especially with those Scaredevils around town,” I said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Okay, are you finished asking me about the Scaredevils and the ringleader?” Tony asked. “Because I told you, I’m not spilling.”

He didn’t have to. After opening his texts, we had all the stuff we needed. At least for now.

“No more questions,” Frank said.

“Good,” Tony said, glancing over his shoulder. “Now, can you guys go back to your table? Carolyn’s coming back!”

“The Scaredevils aren’t your style, Tony,” Frank said as we stood up. “You really ought to ditch them.”

“And go back to wiping tables?” Tony said. “You think Carolyn would date a busboy?”

I wanted to say sure, but Carolyn was already at the booth. She wasn’t smiling anymore, which made me wonder what Iola had told her.

Frank and I slipped back into our booth, where Iola was sipping her root beer float.

“What did you tell Carolyn about the captain of the basketball team?” I asked.

“That she got all As on her last report card,” Iola said, twirling her straw in her shake. “Carolyn was totally bored, but I gave her an earful to kill time.”

“Hey, it worked,” Frank said. “Joe and I got some good stuff from Tony.”

“You mean Tony’s phone,” I said, going back to my burger, which was already cold. “The Scaredevils are trashing Bayport for the money.”

“And their ringleader and benefactor is Colin Sylvester,” Frank added.

“You mean the rich kid?” Iola said. She shrugged. “If he’s got deep pockets, then I guess it makes sense.”

“Makes sense to me, too,” Chet said. “Colin meant business when he hurled that soda can at me. That’s one mean dude.”

“Don’t you think you should tell the cops about Colin?” Iola asked.

I frowned. “If only we could,” I said. “But Chief Olaf doesn’t listen to ‘so-called detectives.’ ”

“Plus, we don’t have any hard evidence on Colin other than that text on Tony’s phone,” Frank said. “And we can’t get our hands on that anymore.”

It made sense to me too that Colin was the Scaredevils’
ringleader. Who else would have all that money to burn? But there was still something I didn’t get. . . .

“What do you think is in it for Colin?” I asked. “I mean, why would a guy who has everything want to spend his money on a bunch of stupid pranks?”

“And hang out with a bunch of Bayport High guys,” Frank said. “That’s what I don’t get.”

I watched Tony from the corner of my eye as we finished our burgers and drinks. He was smiling as he chatted up Carolyn, but every now and then his eyes would dart over to our table. When he caught me watching, he’d quickly glance away.

The guy was obviously nervous about us knowing his secret. Little did Tony know we knew more than he thought!

“Done,” Frank said, pushing away his plate.

“Me too,” I said. “Let’s figure out the check and go.”

“Why don’t we just split it?” Chet said.

“Wait a minute!” I said, leaning over to read the check. “You ordered twice as much as we did, Morton—no way are we splitting it.”

“But you guys ate my sweet potato fries!” Chet argued.

“Yeah, like one!” Iola said.

“Problem solved, you guys,” I said, reaching for my tablet. “This thing has a calculator on it—”

CRASH!!!

My hands flew over my head as glass from the window exploded across our table. For the next few seconds, everything was a blur. People were screaming and diving under tables.

When the sound of falling glass and screams died down, I slowly and carefully looked up. Iola’s hands still covered her head, while Chet crouched halfway under the table. Frank looked about as shaken up as I felt.

We weren’t the only ones. I glanced around to see parents with their arms wrapped around crying kids. Customers were frantically leaving the place, forgetting to pay their bills. Others just sat frozen in stunned silence.

“Wh-what was that?” I asked, my voice shaky.

Careful not to touch the broken glass, Frank reached out and picked up the culprit. It was a medium-size rock with the word “Scaredevils” painted across it.

It was bad enough that I was getting the Scaredevil viral videos by special delivery. Now we were getting rocks hurled through nearby windows!

“Something tells me this is getting personal,” I said.

“Jeez!” Chet cried, coming out from under the table. “We’re not even safe at the Chomp and Chew. It’s the end of civilization as we know it!”

Worried customers and waitstaff hurried over to see if we were okay. But not everyone stuck around. Tony and Carolyn were squeezing through the crowd toward the back door. Carolyn looked confused, while Tony kept glancing back nervously.

“Are you kids all right?” a worried voice asked.

I turned to see the owner of the place, Marty Rios, standing over our booth.

“We’re okay,” Frank said, forcing a smile.

“Two of my biggest waiters are outside trying to catch the punks,” Marty said. “Whoever they are.”

“Thanks, Marty,” Frank said. “But I have a feeling they ran away right after they threw the rock.”

“Who’s they?” Marty demanded.

“The Scaredevils,” Frank said, showing him the rock. “It’s a gang that’s pulling pranks around Bayport.”

“Tell that to the police as soon as they get here,” Marty suggested. “My cashier just put a call in to the station.”

Marty cleared out the Chomp and Chew except for Frank and me. As we sat in another booth, waiting for the police, we talked about the case.

“Do you think Tony knew about the Scaredevils’ plans?” I asked.

Frank shook his head. “He wouldn’t bring Carolyn here if he did,” he said. “Not exactly an awesome first date.”

After a beat I turned to Frank. “So, what do you think?” I asked. “Do we tell the police what we know about Colin? Even if we don’t have any proof to show them?”

“Definitely,” Frank said. “One of us could have gotten seriously hurt just now . . . or even killed.”

Two police officers were already at the Chomp and Chew, talking to Marty. But then the door opened wide and another walked in. My heart sank when I saw who it was.

“Olaf’s in the house,” I muttered.

“Great,” Frank groaned.

Frank and I watched as Chief Olaf walked toward us, followed by the two officers. He was wearing his big shiny badge and his usual cynical smirk.

“Boys,” Chief Olaf said with a nod. “So, tell me what you saw.”

“This!” I said, showing him the rock. “It was hurled through the window we were sitting next to.”

“The word ‘Scaredevils’ is painted on it,” Frank pointed out. “It’s the same gang that tagged our basketball court.”

The chief took the rock from me. He turned it over in his hand before saying, “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“Okay,” Frank said. “We know who the ringleader of the gang is.”

“How do you know?” Chief Olaf asked.

“We read it in a text,” I said.

The chief held out his hand. “Can I see the text, please?” he said.

“Um . . . we don’t have it,” I said.

“It was on someone else’s phone,” Frank explained.

“Well,” Chief Olaf said. “Then it won’t do us much good, will it?”

“We can tell you what we found out,” Frank said quickly. “For one, there’s a guy paying the Scaredevils to pull the pranks.”

“Paying them?” one of the officers piped up.

“Yeah!” I said. “And that person is Colin Sylvester!”

The chief’s eyebrows flew up so high and fast I thought they’d hit the ceiling. Had we finally told him something he wanted to hear?

But then Chief Olaf shook his head. “It can’t be Colin,” he said. “Not a chance.”

“Why not?” Frank asked.

“Because the Sylvesters are respected citizens of the community,” Chief Olaf explained. “Their son Colin goes to Bay Academy.”

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