back.
In the midst of all this, Inspector Melendez spied the Hardys. "You have made a good run of it, but you are finally caught." He reached for them, but Joe overturned the table, hurling it into the police officer's path.
"That's the guy you want, Inspector," Frank said, pointing at Konstantin. "He killed Martin. We have to go."
Vladimir and Konstantin came stumbling by like a pair of clumsy dancers doing a waltz. Frank leaned forward, pushing them both toward Inspector Melendez. Then he grabbed a chair and threw it through a window. Before the inspector could push through to them, Frank and Joe had climbed through the broken window and landed on the street outside.
"What are we running for?" Joe asked. "They've got Konstantin. It's all over."
"Not quite," Frank said. He looked down the street, empty when they entered the disco but now lined with police cars and autos with diplomatic plates. A policeman stood vigilantly outside one of the police cars. Inside, in the back seat, sat Elena. Frank tossed Joe a ring of keys.
"What are these?" Joe asked, amazed.
"Vladimir's keys. I took them from him when he passed by," Frank said. "Get Elena and Vladimir's car. I'll distract the cop."
Joe crept along the line of cars, staying out of the policeman's sight. From the disco the sounds of fighting continued. The noise caught the policeman's attention, and nervously he drummed his fingers on the squad car's dashboard.
From his hiding place down the street, Frank called to the policeman. The policeman looked around but saw nothing. Frank called again, louder. The policeman got out of the car.
Joe popped his head in the window on the opposite side of the car, startling Elena. He put a finger to his lips, warning her to be silent. Frank called again, and Joe opened the car door with a soft click. Elena slid over and crept from the car. Signing for her to crouch, Joe led her away. They ducked out of sight behind a limousine as the policeman returned to his car.
"Which car is Vladimir's?" Joe whispered. A shrill police whistle pierced the air. Elena pointed out a BMW on the other side of the street, and they all ran to it. In seconds Joe unlocked the doors and they slid in, Elena taking the wheel. She put a key in the ignition and turned it.
The ignition wouldn't budge.
She tried another key, frantically watching in the mirror as the pobceman began a car-by-car search for her. "It will not work," she said, trying another and another. Finally, she tossed the ring in Joe's lap, reached under the dashboard, and brought out two wires. She touched them together. The car started.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" Joe asked, as the car pulled onto the street. Ahead, Frank stood in the road, waving at them.
"American television," she replied. The policeman spotted the car and began to run beside it, grabbing at the handles.
"If we stop, he'll catch us," Joe said. They raced toward Frank. Joe reached over the back seat, unlatched the back door, and flung it open. "You'll have to jump for it," he yelled at Frank through his open window.
As the car passed, Frank leapt, snatching at the doorframe. His heels scraped the pavement as he was dragged along, and, straining, he drew his knees up to his chest, lifting his feet off the ground. Twisting, he swung into the back seat of the BMW and slammed the door behind him.
"Glad you could make it," Joe quipped. "Mind telling me now what's going on?"
"In a minute, Joe," Frank said. "Elena, you mentioned Vladimir had a house in Torremolinos. Know where it is?"
"Yes," Elena said.
"Great. Take us there," he replied. "Sorry I couldn't let you in on my plan, Joe. I wanted you to react the way you did in front of Konstantin."
"Let me guess," Joe said. "When you realized what the tape was, you gave it to the disc jockey with instructions to play it over the loudspeakers when you gave the signal."
"Right," Frank said. "He had his own Stones album to play, so it seemed like I gave him the real
In the midst of all this, Inspector Melendez spied the Hardys. "You have made a good run of it, but you are finally caught." He reached for them, but Joe overturned the table, hurling it into the police officer's path.
"That's the guy you want, Inspector," Frank said, pointing at Konstantin. "He killed Martin. We have to go."
Vladimir and Konstantin came stumbling by like a pair of clumsy dancers doing a waltz. Frank leaned forward, pushing them both toward Inspector Melendez. Then he grabbed a chair and threw it through a window. Before the inspector could push through to them, Frank and Joe had climbed through the broken window and landed on the street outside.
"What are we running for?" Joe asked. "They've got Konstantin. It's all over."
"Not quite," Frank said. He looked down the street, empty when they entered the disco but now lined with police cars and autos with diplomatic plates. A policeman stood vigilantly outside one of the police cars. Inside, in the back seat, sat Elena. Frank tossed Joe a ring of keys.
"What are these?" Joe asked, amazed.
"Vladimir's keys. I took them from him when he passed by," Frank said. "Get Elena and Vladimir's car. I'll distract the cop."
Joe crept along the line of cars, staying out of the policeman's sight. From the disco the sounds of fighting continued. The noise caught the policeman's attention, and nervously he drummed his fingers on the squad car's dashboard.
From his hiding place down the street, Frank called to the policeman. The policeman looked around but saw nothing. Frank called again, louder. The policeman got out of the car.
Joe popped his head in the window on the opposite side of the car, startling Elena. He put a finger to his lips, warning her to be silent. Frank called again, and Joe opened the car door with a soft click. Elena slid over and crept from the car. Signing for her to crouch, Joe led her away. They ducked out of sight behind a limousine as the policeman returned to his car.
"Which car is Vladimir's?" Joe whispered. A shrill police whistle pierced the air. Elena pointed out a BMW on the other side of the street, and they all ran to it. In seconds Joe unlocked the doors and they slid in, Elena taking the wheel. She put a key in the ignition and turned it.
The ignition wouldn't budge.
She tried another key, frantically watching in the mirror as the pobceman began a car-by-car search for her. "It will not work," she said, trying another and another. Finally, she tossed the ring in Joe's lap, reached under the dashboard, and brought out two wires. She touched them together. The car started.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" Joe asked, as the car pulled onto the street. Ahead, Frank stood in the road, waving at them.
"American television," she replied. The policeman spotted the car and began to run beside it, grabbing at the handles.
"If we stop, he'll catch us," Joe said. They raced toward Frank. Joe reached over the back seat, unlatched the back door, and flung it open. "You'll have to jump for it," he yelled at Frank through his open window.
As the car passed, Frank leapt, snatching at the doorframe. His heels scraped the pavement as he was dragged along, and, straining, he drew his knees up to his chest, lifting his feet off the ground. Twisting, he swung into the back seat of the BMW and slammed the door behind him.
"Glad you could make it," Joe quipped. "Mind telling me now what's going on?"
"In a minute, Joe," Frank said. "Elena, you mentioned Vladimir had a house in Torremolinos. Know where it is?"
"Yes," Elena said.
"Great. Take us there," he replied. "Sorry I couldn't let you in on my plan, Joe. I wanted you to react the way you did in front of Konstantin."
"Let me guess," Joe said. "When you realized what the tape was, you gave it to the disc jockey with instructions to play it over the loudspeakers when you gave the signal."
"Right," Frank said. "He had his own Stones album to play, so it seemed like I gave him the real
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