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Mr. Goya was meeting with the Reynards, Denise, and the Hardys in the Reynard
offices. When the Hardys had discovered that Carlos was missing, they waited
for Mr.
Goya to arrive on the scene. As soon as they told him what happened, he phoned
the
Reynards on an emergency number, and the Reynards immediately ordered this
predawn gathering.
Now Mr. Goya declared, "Certainly, you cannot expect me to pay for this
mistake. I
demand my down payment back."
"Of course we will return it," said Pierre. "We
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are an honest business. Satisfaction guaranteed."
He removed an envelope from his desk drawer, gave it one last regretful look,
and handed it to Mr. Goya.
Mr. Goya opened it, counted the bills inside, and said, "Fine." He rose from
his chair.
"I will be going now, and leaving this country. France no longer seems so
comfortable to me."
"But I assure you, if you let us supply you with a different crew-" Pierre
began to protest.
"No thank you," replied Mr. Goya. "In my business, I cannot afford people who
make mistakes. Goodbye."
Putting the money in his pocket, he left the office.
Pierre waited until he was gone, then he said, "And in our business, we can't
afford dissatisfied customers-or refunds."
While his brothers smiled grimly, Pierre picked up the phone, spoke a few
quick words into it, then hung up.
"Mr. Goya will not be able to leave France,"he said. "He will not even be able
to leave this building. Not alive, anyway."
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"Well, that's one way of handling complaints," said Frank, repressing a
shudder.
Even Joe, who hated terrorists like poison, felt a chill run through him.
"Complaints are another thing we cannot afford," said Pierre. "Like Mr. Goya,
we cannot afford people who do not do their jobs."
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"I hope you are not referring to us," said Denise. "I assure you, we followed
the plan perfectly.
"I am not referring to you, Denise," said Pierre. "You have proven yourself
thoroughly capable in all your past assignments. But we do have two new
employees about whom we know very little."
"Hey, you can't be talking about us!" exclaimed Frank. "We did everything we
were supposed to do."
"We sure did," agreed Joe. "Denise will tell you that. Right, Denise?"
His look of appeal was met by Denise's cold gaze. "As far as I know," she said
carefully.
Pierre glanced at his watch. "Let us find out whether the five A.M. news has
anything to say about the affair."
He punched a button on his desk, and a TV set lit up on the wall. A woman
newscaster was sitting next to a large photo of a young man. The young man was
Carlos Gonzales.
Frank and Joe strained to figure out what the woman was saying, but she spoke
too fast for them to understand.
They turned away from the screen to ask Denise-but the question never left
their lips.
Denise was pointing a gun at them.
Frank and Joe wheeled around to face the Reynards. Guns were in their hands as
well.
"According to the newscaster, Carlos reported
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that he was set free by the two young men who abducted him in the first
place,' said
Pierre. "Who they are and why they did it remains a mystery.
"But not to us," said Denise. "You two must have been fools enough to think
you could trust a weakling like Carlos. And worse fools if you hoped to
bargain for mercy from the police by setting him free. Obviously, you did not
believe us when we told you what the police will do to cop killers. At least
we can be sure you did not go to the police. If you had, you would be dead."
"Good thinking, Denise," said Pierre, nodding i n approval.
"I try to earn my pay," replied Denise mod estly.
Joe flashed Frank an apologetic look.
This was the pretty girl he hadn't wanted to endanger?
Frank didn't notice Joe. He was too busy looking at the guns trained on them.
"Hey, you can't think --" he began.
"We don't think anything," snapped' Pierre. "We know."
"We also know what to do about it," said Yves.
"The only question is how, when, and where," added Maurice. "And I say here,
now, and with this."
He raised the pistol in his hand.
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"Not so fast," said Pierre, with cool executive authority. "Let us follow
proper business procedures and avoid the difficulties that would be
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caused by going outside established channels. This is a job for our disposal
department."
"But they're busy now," protested Maurice, looking at his pistol and then at
the Hardys like a child deprived of a treat.
"Disposing of Mr. Goya should take them only an hour or so," said Pierre.
"Then they can do the same with these two traitors."
"But what do we do with them in the meantime?" asked Yves.
"Why do you not store them in the corporate boardroom until they are taken?"
suggested Denise. "No one ever goes in there-it is used only a few times a
year. And it has a good lock on the door."
"I can see that you are trying to earn a raise, and you well may get it," said
Pierre, smiling with approval. .
"The cost of living is going up. Denise shrugged her shoulders and smiled
sweetly in return. Then she motioned with her pistol, herding the Hardys out
of the Reynards'
private office.
The boardroom was furnished with a long, heavy oak table and high-backed oak
chairs.
Its walls were paneled with oak and its massive door was oak, too. It looked
strangely old-fashioned in the otherwise sleek and modern headquarters of
Reynard and Company.
"Our beloved uncle feels at home here when he
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comes twice' a year to preside over our public meetings," Pierre explained in
answer to the Hardys' unspoken question as they looked around. "We go to great
trouble not to interfere with the dream world of the' respectable past that he
lives in, as you can see from those pictures." He indicated the large framed
portraits and photo enlargements that lined the walls. "You can amuse yourself
by studying Uncle Paul's life while you wait for your death."
"You won't get away with this," Frank warned.
"Won't we? You doubt the efficiency of Reynard and Company? Then complain to
our dear uncle, or at least to his pictures up there." Pierre and the others
backed out of the room, and the heavy oak door swung shut behind them.
There was the sound of a lock being turned, and then silence.
"Who could have done it?" muttered' Frank, his brows furrowed. "Who could have
sprung Carlos and then framed us? I need time to figure it all out."
"Look, Sherlock, we don't have time for that. We have to figure out how to
escape from her and fast."
The Hardys thought for a moment.
Frank spoke for both of them when he said, "As far as I can see, there's
nothing we can do but wait."
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"Yeah," agreed Joe bitterly. "And like Pierre said, we can amuse ourselves
looking at those pictures.
"I guess it's better than nothing." Frank started walking around the
windowless room, looking at one picture after another.
"You can see how much the Reynards want to butter up their uncle Paul," Frank
said.
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"Yeah, just look at him," Joe whispered in awe.
There were full-length paintings of Paul Reynard over the years. Paul Reynard
as a boy in short pants on a pony. Paul Reynard as a teenager in a school
uniform. Paul Reynard as a young army officer. Paul Reynard as a white-haired
gentleman in a tuxedo. There were enlarged newspaper photos of Paul Reynard
receiving a medal from a high government official and another of Paul Reynard
presiding over a meeting of the board of directors of
Reynard and Company with his nephews looking on humbly in the background.
"I can see why he likes to live in the past," said Frank. "He has quite a
distinguished past to live in.
"He looks like he's still having a good time," said Joe. "Look at this
picture."
The picture was a blown-up page from the sports section of a British
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