Castle Fear by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online Page A

next to me."
    Frank took the picture and studied it. Nigel Hawkins was a tall, thin man of about fifty. Very well dressed, his light hair worn long and wavy, his small mustache neatly clipped. "Does he have an office in London?"
    "Last time I heard. A small one, in an unfashionable part of the city."
    "Perhaps I should go talk to him."
    Beatrix Graill returned to her teapot. "Be on your guard with that man," she warned. "I've heard rumors that he's been in more things than questionable films. This is all hearsay, mind you. But there's been talk that he's involved in fencing stolen gems."
    "So he'd be interested in, say, emeralds."
    "Just about anything that sparkles."
    A heavy fist knocked on the door. When Beatrix opened the door, Joe came bursting into the dressing room. "Trouble," he announced.
    "What's happened?" Frank asked.
    "Larry Berman called us here at the theater - he remembered the appointment he'd set up." Joe looked a little numb. "He wanted to know if Jed was with us. When I told him he wasn't, Berman got really upset."
    Frank took a deep breath. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
    Joe nodded unhappily. "Looks like Jed Shannon has disappeared, too."

Chapter 8
    Frank and Joe took a taxi to Jed's town house, where they met up with Larry Berman, wearing a different, even more explosive Hawaiian shirt this afternoon. "I'm worried, guys, really worried. My boy may be in danger - and on top of that, we blew six interviews." From the amount of pacing going on in the town house living room lately, Joe wondered if there'd be any rug left.
    "Give us some details," Frank told the nervous agent.
    "The day was going beautifully," Berman began. "Jed's a bright boy, and the media people love him. He's very good at interviews and can be, you know, likable, funny, sincere - whatever the situation calls for.
    "Okay, so we're at London Stitches, a very trendy fashion magazine. In the middle of the interview a girl walks into the editorial offices to say there's an important call for Jed. I'm about to tell her to get lost, but he jumps up and goes out to take it in the reception area."
    "So who was the call from?" Joe asked.
    "Jed never told me. When he came back to continue the interview, I asked him who was on the horn. He said it was nothing important." The agent shrugged. "After that we stopped for coffee at some dinky overpriced bistro. Jed said he had to use the washroom. And stupidly, I let him go alone."
    Berman shook his head. "After about ten minutes, I sent those bonehead security guys who were with us out hunting for him. He was nowhere to be found. But they dug up a waiter who told me he saw Jed head out the back door."
    "Alone?" Frank asked.
    "From what the waiter told me, yes."
    Frank shook his head. "Then it doesn't look as though Jed was kidnapped."
    "Maybe they lured him outside somehow and grabbed him there." Berman did some more unhappy pacing. "Anyway, I haven't heard from him since, and we're talking hours here. I'm in a major bind."
    Frank stared. He'd never seen someone actually wring his hands before.
    Berman stopped wringing and mopped his forehead. "Do you have any idea what Jed is worth to my agency? If any suspicion got back to my bosses that I've let him just disappear ... " His voice died out. "I'll be finished in Hollywood. Nobody will trust me - nobody."
    "You'd better go to the police again," Joe suggested.
    "No way I can do that." The agent shook his head vigorously. "What if Jed just sneaked away to meet some lady? I mean, he's been known to do that now and then. To avoid any kind of bad publicity, we've got to find him quietly. Can you help me out here?"
    Frank frowned in thought. "I'd say the most likely explanation for Jed's action is that he got some kind of news about Jillian Seabright."
    "Do you have the phone number for London Stitches?" Joe asked.
    From the pocket of his loud shirt Berman took out a wad of memo slips. "Yeah. Here it is." He plucked out a slip of paper and