Strategic Moves by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online

the older man complained, flustered. "That was perfectly good juice."
    The stocky man gasped for air as the juice hit his face.
    "On your feet, creep," Joe ordered. He reached down, grabbed the man's collar, and lifted him. "Where's your partner, flathead?"
    The man only gurgled tomato juice. "Can't ... breathe," the man gagged in a gravelly voice.
    "Get up!"
    The man stood, his legs wobbly, and faced Joe.
    He rubbed his throat and gasped for air, avoiding Joe's fiery blue eyes.
    "Why'd you try to kill us?" Joe demanded to know.
    "I'm afraid I will have to ask the questions," a deep male voice said behind Joe.
    Joe spun around. A man in his early fifties wearing a well-fitting blue English police officer's uniform stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Another police officer stood at his side. Joe acknowledged the authority etched into the man's face and voice and moved aside.
    "Thank you, Mr. Hardy," the police officer said. He pointed to the stocky man. "Take that man into custody, Officer Blake.
    "Yes, sir," Officer Blake responded. "Come along, you." Blake grabbed the thug by his collar and all but dragged him out through the front doors.
    "How do you know my name?" Joe asked the police officer.
    "Oh, sorry," the man said, watching Blake and the small man. He turned and held out his hand. "I'm Commander Collins, Oxford police."
    Joe grabbed the man's hand and shook it.
    Collins continued. "I spoke with your brother outside. He said you had gone after the man suspected of having vandalized the building."
    "I don't think vandalism was what he intended," Joe remarked as they headed for the doors.
    "Yes, well, we'll have to find out about that, won't we?" Collins smiled. In a way, the Oxford police commander reminded Joe of a friendly Chief Collig back in Bayport.
    A friendly Chief Collig? Joe thought with a shudder. That's a contradiction in terms. Maybe I got hit in the head with that crowbar.
    Joe found Frank standing next to Aleksandr. The older Hardy was giving a statement to another English police officer.
    "You look okay," Joe said to Aleksandr.
    "I understand that I have you to thank for saving my life by shoving me onto the sidewalk," Aleksandr said coldly.
    "Hey, you don't have to thank me," Joe said with an edge to his voice. "It was either eat a little concrete sidewalk or get eaten by a one-ton gargoyle." Joe nodded at the shattered statue.
    Aleksandr looked as if he wanted to strike out at Joe. Instead, he turned to the police officer interviewing Frank and said, "You know you cannot hold me?"
    "Yes, sir," Collins replied. "You are free to go."
    Aleksandr walked away from the group.
    "You're not going to let him go, are you?" Joe all but shouted.
    "Aleksandr has diplomatic immunity," Frank replied.
    "Oh," Joe said with disgust. "We're going with him." Joe wanted to find Ziggy.
    "Sergeant," Collins said to the other police officer. "Take these two young men to headquarters and hold them until I arrive."
    "Yes, sir," the sergeant said with a salute. "This way, gentlemen." The sergeant pointed toward a blue and white panel van marked Oxford Police Department.
    "What's wrong, Joe?" Frank asked in a low voice as they neared the panel wagon.
    "I don't like the idea of Aleksandr not being questioned," Joe replied in the same low whisper. "And the guy who tried to do us in with that gargoyle is the same guy who tried to kidnap Ziggy last night."
    "I recognized him when they brought him out," Frank replied. "Perhaps we can question him on the way to the police station."
    Joe liked the idea. They would be alone in the back of the van with the stocky man on the ride to the station. That would give them plenty of time and opportunity to find out what was going on and whom the man worked for.
    But when the sergeant opened the door, Joe saw that the back of the panel van was empty.
    "Where's the other guy?" Joe asked.
    "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," the sergeant replied.
    "The man my brother caught