Three-Ring Terror (11 page)

With that, Nash lashed out at Joe, punching him in the face. As Joe went down, Nash karate-kicked Frank in the stomach, and Frank fell in a heap next to Joe.

Joe tried to stand up, but Nash's second punch had made his ears ring. His wig had gotten knocked off and was lying on the ground next to him. Finally, Joe's head stopped throbbing, and he was able to get to his feet.

Frank got to his feet slowly. His costume was covered with sawdust, his wig was sideways on his head, and he was clutching his stomach. Justine hurried over to him and asked him if he was okay. Frank nodded, his pain making it difficult to speak.

“Did you see which way he went?” Joe asked Justine. Justine shook her head silently and swallowed a few times.

“He's gone by now,” Frank said, looking toward the doorway. “And if I'm right, he's not coming back either,” he added in disgust.

Joe nodded. “He's probably running off right now with his buddy, Ralph Rosen.”

“I'm telling you, you've got it all wrong,” Justine insisted. “I know Carl Nash, and he's no criminal.”

“So why'd he take us out like that?” Joe asked. “Innocent people don't just go around punching out other guys. Come on, Justine. Carl Nash is involved in something dishonest and dangerous. Why don't you tell us what it is?”

Frank shot his brother a warning look, as if to remind him to go easy on the girl. Justine gave Joe a steely look. “I've told you everything I know. I'm going to find an animal trainer to get that ball out of there,” she said, pointing to the lion's cage, where the lion had started sniffing at the ball that had landed there. “Then you'll see that there's nothing suspicious going on.”

“You're saying that's just an ordinary juggler's ball Rosen wanted your friend Carl to have?” Joe asked.

Justine glared at Joe and turned to speak to Frank. “I'll be back.” With that, she strode out of the room.

Frank turned to his brother and made a face. “You sure do have a way with women,” he said sarcastically. “Nice work, Joe.”

Joe kicked at the sawdust on the ground with his foot. Frank was right. He had been a little harsh with Justine, but only because he was
getting frustrated by all the dead ends. “She's got to know something,” Joe insisted. “Nash is a close buddy of hers. He sent her to get the ball from Rosen, then tried to take off when we showed up.”

“But Justine stayed behind after Nash finally left,” Frank reminded his brother. “She didn't take off with him.”

Joe realized Frank had a point. “You really think she doesn't know anything?”

“I don't know,” Frank said. He rubbed his sore stomach. “She doesn't seem to.”

“But her initials are on the list,” Joe insisted.

“So are Georgianne Unger's,” Frank said.

Joe looked inside the lion's cage. The lion had started nibbling at the ball. “All this is speculation until we find out if there's another message in that ball,” Joe said. “And if there is, we've got to get it before that big cat does.”

The lion yawned and shook his mane. Then he put his paws on the ball and started biting at it in earnest. Frank grabbed a whip that was hanging on a hook attached to the cage. Then he stepped near to the cage.

“What are you going to do?” Joe asked.

“We've got to get the ball away from him,” Frank told his brother, holding on tightly to the whip. The lion seemed to be keeping an eye on them while he pawed away at the ball.

“If there's a message inside the ball,” Joe said, “that lion's going to get at it. Hurry.”

“I am hurrying,” Frank insisted as he uncoiled the whip.

“But be careful, too,” Joe warned.

Frank nodded. He stepped back a few paces and drew back the whip, keeping his eyes on a spot about a foot in front of the lion. Then he snapped the whip. It flew through the bars and hit the floor of the cage with a loud
crack.
The lion opened his jaws wide and let out a huge roar.

“Hey!” Joe shouted, jumping back.

“Keep cool,” Frank said, quietly. He snapped the whip at the spot in front of the lion again. This time the lion jumped up and backed away, leaving the ball behind.

“Hurry!” Joe yelled. “Get the ball.”

Frank quickly snapped the whip at the ball, sending it flying into the far corner of the cage. The lion roared again, louder this time, and began to paw at the whip.

“Grab the ball!” Frank told Joe. “I'll keep him back!”

Joe darted to the side of the cage and swiftly reached his hand inside. He had almost managed to grab the ball when he heard a voice call out. “Hey, you! Get your hands out of there!”

Joe turned to see Justine standing in the doorway with a man by her side. The man rushed
over, pulled Joe away from the cage, and held him by the shoulders.

“What do you . . . clowns . . . think you're doing?” he demanded.

Joe was about to explain when Frank stepped up. “That's our ball in there,” he said. “We were trying to get it out.”

“Real smart,” the man said, letting go of Joe. “You guys could have been killed.” With that, he grabbed the whip out of Frank's hand, unlocked the cage, and stepped inside. In a few trained movements, the man had the lion sitting back on his hind legs, his paws in the air. “Stay, Brutus,” the man told the lion sharply. He then walked over to the corner of the cage and picked up the ball. He tossed it through the bars of the cage, and Joe caught it neatly between his hands.

“Thanks!” Joe yelled out.

“Next time,” the man warned, “don't mess with these animals. They may be trained, but that doesn't stop them from attacking.” He passed the lion a tidbit from his pocket, backed out of the cage, and locked it up.

Frank took the ball from Joe and wiped it clean. He looked it over carefully. “Is there anything inside?” Joe asked his brother.

“Nope,” Frank said. He tried twisting the ball, but Joe could see it wouldn't budge.

“Now are you satisfied?” Justine asked, her
arms crossed in front of her. “If you're through with the ball, I'd like to give it back to Carl.”

“Not so fast,” Joe told her. He took the ball back from Frank and examined it himself. His brother was right—there was no way of opening it up, which meant there had to be something else important about it. He looked at the gems carefully. Like the ones on the other ball, these looked like rhinestones, about an inch in size each.

“Is there a knife around?” he asked the animal trainer. The man gave Joe a quizzical look but pulled a pocketknife from his pants pocket and gave it to Joe.

Joe opened the knife and scratched away at one of the gems. It broke into a few pieces and fell to the ground.

“Rhinestones?” Frank asked, realizing what his brother was up to.

“Or glass,” Joe replied. “Let's try another.” One by one, Joe scratched at the gems, and one by one, all of them broke into pieces.

“Give it up, Joe,” Frank suggested. “This is another dead end.”

But Joe wasn't about to give in so easily. He knew there had to be a reason why Rosen and Nash had acted so suspiciously, and this ball held the clue. He went at the last gem. He scratched its surface, expecting it to fall apart, too. But it didn't. Instead, the gem shone out even more
brilliantly. Joe caught his breath, realizing what they'd found.

“Not a scratch!” he announced, his voice rising in excitement.

Frank took one look at the gem and let out a long whistle. “You don't mean . . .?”

Joe nodded. “Unless I'm wrong, we've got our hands on a real diamond!”

Justine gasped and looked nervously at Frank and Joe. Frank braced himself, ready to stop her from running off. If she was involved, he was sure she'd try to get away.

But the trapeze student just stood there, staring at the ball. “No,” she said softly, her eyes filling with tears. “Not Carl.”

“Not Carl?” Joe repeated. “Just what do you know about this, Justine?” he demanded, holding up the ball.

Justine hid her face in her hands. Frank went over to her and put his hand on her arm. “It's okay,” he told her. “Why don't you calm down, and then you can tell us what you know.” He took the ball from Joe. “Did you know Rosen
was passing diamonds to Nash?” Frank asked quietly.

“I knew the ball was important,” Justine said, holding back her tears. “Carl told me to meet that guy at exactly eleven o'clock, but he also told me that if anything happened, I should hold on to the ball no matter what and pretend I didn't know anything. Which I don't, really.”

Joe tapped his foot impatiently. “You knew more than you were letting on before,” he insisted.

“That's enough, Joe,” Frank said firmly. He turned to Justine and asked, “Why couldn't Carl meet Rosen himself?”

Justine wiped a tear from her eye. “He said it was too dangerous, with you guys prowling around. He said Rosen would understand why he needed an intermediary.”

“So Carl picked you,” Frank concluded, feeling sorry for the young woman. “Weren't you worried it would be dangerous for you?” he asked.

“I love Carl,” Justine confessed. “I'd do anything for him.”

“But now you see what kind of person he is,” Joe said. “It looks like he's messed up with the theft of a diamond, at the very least,” he said.

Frank followed through on Joe's reasoning. “Nash and Rosen are accomplices in something illegal. They're doing their best to hide it by
passing juggler's balls and coded messages back and forth. And now that we know this ball has a diamond in it, I'm beginning to wonder if we're looking at a smuggling ring or the theft of one diamond.”

“What did you mean just now about coded messages?” Justine asked, her eyes wide.

Joe quickly explained about the code and told Justine that her initials were in it, too. “Did Carl tell you to plan to meet Rosen again on January third?” he asked, referring to the date that corresponded to Justine's initials on the code.

Justine shook her head. “No. I'm going back to Florida after the circus is finished in Bayport. My family is there, and I want to spend Christmas and New Year's with them. Nash is going home, too.”

“Rats,” Frank said, realizing their theory was shot again. Nash could be using Justine to pick up another of Rosen's drops, but only if both Rosen and Justine were on tour together. “Did Nash ever ask you to continue with the tour in January?” he pressed, trying to fit the facts into the theory.

“No,” Justine said again. “Look, I don't know what Carl is involved in, but I'm sure there's got to be an explanation,” she said, trying to sound convincing. But one look at the ball in Frank's hands made her cut the speech short. “I've got to
go,” Justine said abruptly. “I have to get ready for our performances this afternoon. Circus U. students are putting on a show for the Montero, and I need to get ready.”

Frank watched the trapeze student leave and then turned to his brother. “This is even more serious than we thought,” he said, rubbing his finger over the diamond. “Jewel thieves as well as sabotage.”

“And we still don't even know why the sabotage is taking place or how it's connected to the diamond,” Joe added, as he began to take off his clown suit.

Frank started to remove his costume, too. “Why would Rosen have dropped the message two days ago, and then the diamond today?” he asked, as he slipped off the oversize clown shoes. “And how did Nash know to meet Rosen, or send Justine, when the first message never got to him?”

“Ah, that's much better,” Joe said, flexing his arms. “I'm really glad to be out of that costume.”

“So, how did Nash know to meet Rosen?” Frank repeated.

Joe thought for a moment. “Maybe Nash had another meeting with Rosen yesterday. Maybe that's when they arranged this meeting.”

“That could be why we saw Rosen around here yesterday,” Frank agreed. “But here's another
question: Why would Rosen be giving Nash instructions about other drops in the first place—assuming that's what the message means?”

“Especially since, as Justine says, she and Nash aren't continuing with the tour,” Joe put in. “Nash couldn't help Rosen out then.”

“True,” Frank said. Then something occurred to him. “Hey,” he said, snapping his fingers. “What if Nash is only one part of this whole thing?”

“Huh?” Joe asked, the confusion evident on his face. “You're not making sense. Who else would be involved?”

“Nash was meant to get the message instead of Chet, right?” Frank said, testing his theory. “But who sent Nash to work the table that night?”

“The same person who sent Chet,” Joe replied. “Bo Costello.”

“Right!” Frank exclaimed. He pocketed the ball and grabbed Joe's arm. “I think we've found the missing link.”

Moments later, Frank and Joe were standing outside Bo Costello's office. The admissions director wasn't in, and the door was locked tight.

“This is our first real break,” Joe said, trying the knob.

“We'd better make this search a quick one,” Frank said. “We don't know when Costello will be back.” He found a large safety pin lying on the floor. He picked it up and bent it straight. “This
will do just fine.” Frank stuck the pin in the lock and twisted it back and forth. In a few seconds he heard the lock click open. “Be careful,” he warned. “Keep your ears and eyes open. We don't want to get caught here.”

Joe nodded and followed his brother inside Costello's office. He locked the door shut behind them and braced a chair against it, figuring that the barrier would buy them some time if Costello showed up. “What are we looking for, anyway?”

“Some kind of proof that Costello knows Rosen better than he says he does,” Frank told him. “If Nash had been working alone with Costello, Rosen wouldn't have needed to pass him instructions or information in that message. He would have dropped the ball with the diamond on it and that would have been that.”