Mystery of the Samurai Sword by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online Page B

the front of the building?”
    â€œIt’s possible, but by heaving up the hook they would have risked making enough noise to attract the attention of the guard inside. Also, the windowsill shows no markings from a hook.”
    â€œCould a line have been dropped from the roof?” Joe asked.
    The security man shook his head. “No way. The alarm system would have detected any intruder on the roof.”
    â€œAnd nothing else was taken but the sword?” Frank asked.
    â€œAs far as we can tell. I’m convinced they got scared off. At that time of night with the streets fairly quiet, they probably heard the scout car pull up, and they certainly would have heard the police pounding on the door. Also, an alarm did go off just a little later, when the guard and the cops were rushing up to the third floor to investigate.”
    â€œHow come?” said Frank.
    â€œWhat triggered it was the trapdoor to the roof being opened,” the security man explained. “Apparently that’s how the thieves got away—over the roofs of some adjoining buildings to the nearest fire escape.”
    The Hardy boys left the gallery soon afterward, promising to pass along any leads they might uncover.
    â€œWe still don’t know for sure if the gallery heist ties in with our own case,” Joe complained. “We can’t even be certain Satoya did want the stolen samurai sword.”
    Frank nodded. “Maybe it’s high time we went right to the horse’s mouth.”
    Stopping at a public phone booth, he made a long-distance call back to Bayport, and managed to catch Mr. Oyama at the Bayport Chilton Hotel.
    â€œCan you tell us if Mr. Satoya was planning to buy a certain samurai sword at the Palmer-Glade Galleries in New York?” Frank asked.
    From the momentary silence that followed, and from Oyama’s tone of voice when he finally replied, Frank got the impression that the Japanese was surprised by his question, and especially by the fact that the Hardys had found out about the sword.
    â€œYes, that is correct,” Oyama confirmed. “It may even have been the most important reason for his trip to America.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œSomething must certainly have caused him to make such an unusual decision—and I am not sure that business reasons alone can explain it. Perhaps you do not realize what a drastic move this was for Mr. Satoya. Even at home in Japan, among his own people, he shuns all crowds and public appearances. Yet by flying to America, he was willing to expose himself more to the public eye than ever before.”
    â€œI understood he was coming over to discuss a business merger,” Frank said.
    â€œYes. That is so. There is a chance the Road King Company may combine with our own motorcycle division. But if Mr. Satoya had wished, I am sure their officials would have agreed to visit Japan and talk with us, instead of Mr. Satoya coming here. For that matter,” the aide added, “I believe Mr. Kawanishi and I could well have carried on the negotiations under Mr. Satoya’s supervision.”
    â€œIf that’s so,” Frank pointed out, “couldn’t he have sent someone over here to buy the sword for him?”
    Over the line, Frank could hear Oyama’s worried sigh. “Yes, that too seems sensible. I am afraid I do not know the answer.”
    Frank thanked the Japanese, then hung up and reported the conversation to his brother.
    â€œSure doesn’t help us much,” Joe grumbled.
    Frank agreed and added, “We’ll just have to keep scratching for leads, that’s all.”
    New York’s skyscraper office buildings were letting out their employees for lunch, and both streets and sidewalks were crowded. Everyone seemed in a hurry. Frank and Joe enjoyed watching the sea of faces all around them as they made their way back to the parking garage.
    To avoid having their car jockeyed by careless attendants, the