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Informationen zum Autor Franklin W. Dixon is the author of the ever-popular Hardy Boys books. Klappentext Frank and Joe continue their undercover investigation of Gamma Theta Theta! a mysterious-turned-dangerous fraternity at an all-boys school in New England. Leseprobe JOE 1 The Writing on the Wall Just once , I thought as I stared at the two buckets full of red liquid, couldn’t it be cherry cough syrup? Killer, the former police dog turned school mascot, seemed to know exactly what it was. He growled low and deep at the buckets. I stepped up and held up my finger, which I’d just dipped into the fluid to confirm my suspicion. My stomach churned. “Looks like we’ve got another mystery on our hands.” “Blood?” my brother Frank asked. Everyone around me—except for Frank—immediately drew back. “What kind of sick person would do something like that?” asked Mr. Marks. His face was pale, and he sounded genuinely disgusted, which was almost funny considering that his son Ellery had just been found responsible for the death of one student and the serious wounding of another. In fact, if I had to take a guess as to “what kind of sick person” would do something like this, I’d pretty much lay my money on Ellery. Speaking of which . . . “Where’s Ellery?” The adults looked around in confusion. Could Ellery have taken this opportunity to make a run for it? Frank nodded at me and rushed outside to look for him. “He’s here,” Frank yelled a second later. I was about to ask what he was doing out there, when an unmistakable sound echoed around the walls of the little cabin. BLUGH—BLUGH—BLEAAARGH! Sounded like Ellery, for all his murderous ways, couldn’t handle the sight of blood. I wasn’t that surprised really. He seemed pretty unstable—he’d killed someone just to get out of having to join the fraternity his father had been in! Talk about overreacting. This didn’t seem like him. Buckets of blood were too cold and calculating. It was pretty clear Ellery knew nothing about the blood. And from his reaction, it didn’t look likehis father did either. So what were two buckets of blood doing in an abandoned hut in the middle of nowhere on the grounds of the exclusive Willis Firth Academy? Whose blood was it? Something told me that this case wasn’t as over as we’d thought it was. Seems like Ellery wasn’t the only one making trouble around here. “Whose hut is this, anyway?” I asked Dr. Darity. He shrugged. “I didn’t even know this existed,” he said. “I’ll look into it, but there have been a lot of renovations done to the grounds over the years. Who knows when it was built?” “Well, until we have more information, we need to have security watching this place. No one gets in or out.” “I think I can help with that,” said Mr. Marks. “I can leave behind one of my private security detail. Just until the school can hire security of their own, of course.” “Thank you, but—” Mr. Marks cut Dr. Darity off. “No need to thank me. But perhaps some of the more . . . sordid details of the events of the past few hours could be kept quiet?” Guess he didn’t want the whole world knowing his son had gone off the deep end. I couldn’t blame him for that. “Of course the school will be discrete, Mr.—” “Good,” Mr. Marks said. “I will be removing Ellery from the school immediately. Your organization—what’s it called again? ALAC? ALAS?” “ATAC,” I said. I’d forgotten that Mr. Marks and Ellery knew all about our real reason for being at the school. That made me nervous; I wondered who else knew. “Right. ATAC has suggested a place where Ellery might be taken care of until he is recovered from this illness. He and I will be heading there by private jet tomorrow. You may keep my bodyguard for as long as necessary. ...
