"The Case of the Mysterious Man" Part 5 - by Ha      "I must say, Bo, you've got quite a tackle," Inspector Chris Hewitt observed, rubbing around his abdomen.  He was sitting on the sofa with Dr. Hewitt and had just been introduced to his son's new friends.  The long, blond wig he once wore was on the coffee table.  "Do you play football?"  "Yes, Inspector Hewitt," Bo answered.  He, Shirley, and Blake stood in front of Inspector Hewitt.  Shirley studied the inspector carefully, noting that except for his hair color, he and Blake looked exactly the same.  "Are you sure you're okay, Chris?" Dr. Hewitt asked her husband with concern.  "I'm fine, Lauren," Inspector Hewitt assured his wife.  "Just got the wind knocked out of me."  Blake looked at his dad, still trying to believe that he was sitting in front of him.  "But I attended your funeral and saw your body being buried.  Your friend Frederickson saw you die."  Inspector Hewitt closed his eyes and shook his head.  "I'm afraid you attended Frederickson's funeral and saw his body buried in my grave, Blake.  He died in the car bombing, not me."  "Wait a minute."  Bo was confused.  "You mean Frederickson was blown to bits?  What about the letter from him?"  "I typed it myself," Inspector Hewitt revealed.  "Everything in it was the absolute truth about that night except for who died."  "So why lie about the car bombing?"  Bo could not believe Inspector Hewitt just abandoned his family.  "Why didn't you let your family know you were alive?"  "Because he's hiding from someone," Shirley said.  "Someone who is apparently very dangerous."  Inspector Hewitt looked at Shirley.  Shirley read the expression on his face, seeing that her observation was correct.  "If Inspector Hewitt told his family he survived the car bombing, he would've placed them in danger as well."  "You're correct, Shirley," Inspector Hewitt said.  "I could not let them use my family to get to me."  He said "them" with a touch of hatred.  "Who are you talking about, Dad?"  Blake did not understand.  Inspector Hewitt was silent.  "E.N.I.G.M.A.," he said finally.  "E.N.I.G.M.A.?" Blake said.  "E.N.I.G.M.A."  Inspector Hewitt nodded.  "The Establishment for Nefarious, Insidious, Global, and Malicious Acts."  "Nice name," Bo commented dryly.  "No wonder they shortened it. What's E.N.I.G.M.A.?"  "The most dangerous criminal organization in the world," Inspector Hewitt said.  "I've never heard of them," Shirley said.  "No one has," Inspector Hewitt said.  "That's why they're so dangerous."  "So this E.N.I.G.M.A. organization tried to kill you and got your friend instead," Bo said.  "Why?"   "It's a long story, but it'll explain everything."  Inspector Hewitt sighed.  "Besides, I have failed, and E.N.I.G.M.A. has triumphed again."  "Before you start, how did you know where we were?" Blake asked his dad.  "All the time I was hiding, I still kept an eye on you," Inspector Hewitt explained.  "One of my friends at my old workplace kept me informed about you and your mom.  He believed he was doing it on behalf of Frederickson.  From him I learned about your mom's new job in her hometown and he gave me the address."  Rosa, the maid, came into the living room carrying a glass of water. She handed it to Inspector Hewitt.  "Your water, Inspector Hewitt," she said.  "Thank you, Rosa," Inspector Hewitt said, taking a sip of water.  "Can I get you anything else?" Rosa asked the inspector.  "No, that'll be all Rosa," Inspector Hewitt replied.  "Just get the table ready for dinner.  After my story, I'll be going."  Rosa nodded and returned to the kitchen.  Before anyone could ask the inspector why he was leaving after dinner, he began his tale.  "A week before I left for England, I was assisting the San Francisco police with a stolen diamond-smuggling ring.  Interpol and the San Francisco police had been keeping an eye on these guys for a while.  We caught them by surprise at a harbor warehouse when they were about to get the diamonds out of the country.  Seeing that they were caught with the goods and totally outnumbered, they surrendered.  However, there were three men who didn't.  They stood out from the rest because they were wearing weird-looking masks over their heads.  They were two foxes and a rat.  Instead of giving up, they ran for the back exit.  The guys in fox masks were closer to the exit, but the guy with the rat mask was lagging behind.  I was the closest, so I tackled the rat guy and held him down.  He struggled to get out of my grip, buy I was too strong for him.  He looked at his fellow masked men, who were about to help him, but then they saw three policemen running toward them.  They looked at their captured friend and said, 'Remember your oath.'  Then they bolted out the door, leaving my prisoner to his fate.  "He and the rest of the smugglers were brought to the closest police station.  I learned that the two other masked men had gotten away.  I became curious about them, so I asked the ringleader about them while he was interrogated.  He had just denied his right to counsel and confessed to everything when I brought up the matter.  He said that they weren't part of the smuggling ring; they were hired to transport the diamonds out of the country.  The ringleader had just met them that day and knew nothing else about them.  "Next I interrogated the man I tackled.  His rat mask was off.  I had it examined and found it had a small voice distorter near the mouth. As for the guy, he was young-looking and had unruly blond hair.  He looked like a regular street punk.  Like the ringleader, he refused a lawyer.  Throughout the questioning, he kept looking around nervously. He did acknowledge his involvement with the smugglers and confirmed what the ringleader said, but he was evasive about who he was. Finally, after fifteen minutes, I got frustrated and banged my fist on the table.  'Listen, buddy,' I said angrily.  'My patience is wearing thin.'  "'But they'll kill me if I talk!' the man cried out.  'They'll kill me if I break my oath!'  "'What are you talking about?' I asked.  "The man still looked around for something.  He was trembling really bad.  'Look, I was supposed to take the diamonds out of the country. I've already confessed to that, but don't pump me for more information, please!' he begged.  'I've taken an oath to keep our secrets, but I was never good at keeping secrets.  If I talk, I'm a dead man!'  "I was puzzled.  'Oaths?  Secrets?  What are you talking about?'  "'If I spill the beans, I'm a goner!'  Suddenly, he got up and grabbed me by my coat collar. 'I can't take the pressure anymore!  I know I'm gonna break!  I'm a dead man!  Dead!'  "I shoved him back into his chair.  'Calm down!' I roared.  He tried to, but he was shaking nervously.  I calmed down myself and cleared my head before I talked to him again.  'Look, if I give you police protection, will you tell me who you are?'  "The man looked scared.  'It won't matter.  They'll know.  They have eyes and ears everywhere.'  "Now I was really interested; a good mystery always interested me, and I stuck to it until I solved it.  I wondered who were 'they.'  I tried to reassure him.  'Look, I promise you the best protection the San Francisco police can provide.  I'll make sure of that,' I promised sincerely.  'I'll have men watch you twenty-four hours a day if necessary.'  "The man heard what I said and relaxed a little.  'Y-you sure?'  "'I give you my word,' I said.  "I guess he saw the light because he let out a sigh and calmed down. 'Okay, I can tell you're an honest man and that you'll keep your promise, but I'm risking my life if I talk.  I'm going to reveal to you stuff that you probably won't believe.  But it's all true, and if they find out, I'm a dead man.'  "I repeated my vow that no one would come to him, offered him a glass of water, and then I resigned myself to listening to his story.  After he gulped down some water, he began.  He said that he was a member of a secret worldwide criminal society called the Establishment for Nefarious, Insidious, Global, and Malicious Acts, or E.N.I.G.M.A. for short.  He said it's been around since the beginning of the twentieth century.  Basically, E.N.I.G.M.A. hires out its agents to anyone who's willing to pay.  According to my prisoner, if you've got a lot of cash, E.N.I.G.M.A. agents will steal, smuggle, kidnap, or kill for you.  They usually wore masks, sometimes personalized, to hide their identities while meeting their clients.  Their trademark is a puzzle hinting at the crime they send to the place where the crime will take place.  'Why hint the police at the crime?' I asked him.  He replied, 'It gave the local cops a chance to stop us.  We've got a lot of hi-tech gizmos and we're good at what we do, whether we steal or kill.  The gizmos make the job easy.  Too easy.  So we throw the cops a bone.'  He pointed out that the vaguer the puzzle, the more important the crime was.  I asked him what puzzles they used.  'Oh, any type, but mainly riddles,' he answered.  There I saw why the group was called E.N.I.G.M.A.  I asked him about membership.  'Anyone can join if he or she proves himself or herself to Mr. E,' he answered.  "'Mr. E?' I said.  'Who's that?'  "'The head of E.N.I.G.M.A.,' he anmswered."  "Mr. E?"  Bo tried not to laugh.  "What kind of name is that?"  Shirley gave Bo a look she reserved for him when she was bothered by him.  Bo was immediately quiet.  "Mr. E.  Mystery.  Rather appropriate for an organization named E.N.I.G.M.A.  Please continue, Inspector."  Inspector Hewitt nodded.  "I next asked him if he's ever seen Mr. E. 'Nope,' he replied.  'Only those with high-ranking identification numbers and the proper clearance know his identity and his location. On a mission, he only speaks to the field supervisor, the high-ranking agent present.'  I asked him about ID numbers.  'Well, sir, the agent with the rank of Number One is second only to Mr. E.'"  "How 'Star Trek,'" Bo commented.  Shirley gave Bo "the look" again.  Inspector Hewitt continued.  "He said that the larger the number, the lower the rank.  He said his rank was so low that he was in the millions, but he added he was a new member.  My next question was about the oath.  'I don't recall it exactly, but it basically says that we pledge our loyalty to Mr. E and E.N.I.G.M.A.  We swear never to reveal the existence of E.N.I.G.M.A. to anyone, even under threat of torture.  If we break that oath, then we would pay with our lives.'  He looked at me, sweat falling from his brow.  He resumed trembling.  'By telling you all this, Inspector, I've broken my oath, and now I'm supposed to die.  If my fellow E.N.I.G.M.A. agents find out about our little talk, I'm a goner.  I've also put you in danger as well.'  He bowed his head in silence, as if that day was the day of his execution.  I saw that he wasn't going to talk anymore, so I left the interrogation room and had a conference with the captain, who watched everything through the one-way mirror.  I asked him if he believed our paranoid prisoner.  I sure did.  The captain was skeptical, however.  'Secret organizations, huh?' he said.  'I believe in concrete proof, and this guy has nothing but his word and a mask he could've bought at any costume shop.  I think he's lying, Hewitt.'  "'I don't, but even if he is, he's shaken up about something,' I pointed out.  'I want him guarded around the clock until the date the smugglers will appear in court.'  The captain at first refused to, in his own words, 'waste valuable manpower on a wacko who says he's part of some secret society.' Eventually I persuaded him, and I left the station hoping that my prisoner would be all right.  "Imagine how shocked I was when I was told my prisoner was found dead in his cell.  I was at the airport, ready to go home, when a policeman found me and informed me that the 'wacko' I interrogated was dead, apparently of a heart attack.  I called the coroner and gave him my work and home phone numbers, telling him to tell me how the aupotsy went.  From the time I spent on the plane to the time I got home, I was wondering how someone so young could die of a heart attack.  Despite his behavior during the time we talked, he seemed physically healthy. After I got home, the coroner in San Francisco called.  He informed me that he found a tiny puncture wound on the man's arm that would've been easy to miss by the untrained eye."  "Poison?" Shirley asked.  "The coroner found a tiny amount of an artificial stimulant in his bloodstream," Inspector Hewitt reported.  "That tiny amount was enough to give the guy a fatal heart attack.  There was no sign of forced entry into his cell, so..."  "It had to be an inside job!" Blake blurted out.  "The coroner and I concluded that, too," Inspector Hewitt said.  "He was about to report his findings when something happened to him."   "What happened, Dad?" Blake asked.  "He was killed in a car accident," Inspector Hewitt said grimly.  "He was trying to stop at a red light.  For some strange reason, his brakes didn't work.  His replacement reported that the prisoner's death was due to a sudden heart attack brought on by stress."  "That's weird," Bo commented.  "The new coroner was either a member of E.N.I.G.M.A. or was paid off," Shirley concluded.  "Exactly what I was thinking."  Inspector Hewitt continued.  "The so-called wacko's paranoia was starting to infect me.  I now had an interest in this sinister organization while at the same time I was afraid that there were E.N.I.G.M.A. agents in my neighborhood.  But I was determined to find evidence that proved this group existed.  What they did to my informant and the coroner proved how dangerous they were.  I started researching a number of unsolved crimes in the archives that occured from the beginning of the twentieth century to the present.  I noted how many involved riddles and other puzzles.  I also researched a number of solved crimes in the same time range and found some similarities.  In all cases, the puzzles were thought of as jokes.  In the solved cases, people were caught and if something was stolen, it was recovered.  I guessed that any E.N.I.G.M.A. agents involved covered their tracks well and left their employers out to dry.  That's why E.N.I.G.M.A. is so dangerous.  Instead of competing with other criminal groups, they profit from them.  They take their money, do their dirty work, and then disappear without a trace."  Inspector Hewitt sipped his water.  "They're good at covering their tracks. They're good at infiltration.  They're in possession of highly-advanced technology.  I concluded that if I didn't expose E.N.I.G.M.A., they could easily dominate the world.  "My colleagues in Interpol didn't share my ideas on E.N.I.G.M.A.  They thought I was crazy to investigate a 'fictional organization.'  I didn't care; I was determined to expose E.N.I.G.M.A.  I kept researching and kept an eye out.  I didn't want to end up like my informant and the coroner."  Inspector Hewitt sipped his water again.  "Then, my superior informed me that there was a case in England that Scotland Yard was having trouble with.  He had recommended me to help them out because of my reputation of always solving the case.  I think his ulterior motive was to get my mind off E.N.I.G.M.A.  I went to England and rendezvoused with an old college buddy of mine, a fellow Interpol agent by the name of Frederickson.  He was a conspiracy nut, so during the time I spent in London, when I wasn't working on the case, I'd discuss E.N.I.G.M.A. with him.  He was fascinated by the subject.  He mentioned that he's heard rumors of a secret and large criminal organization, but he didn't have a name.  In Frederickson, I found a confidant.  "Well, I helped solve the case, and I did go to a local tavern with Frederickson and others to celebrate.  The letter I wrote to my family as Frederickson pretty much tells the truth about that night.  There was an explosion, but poor Frederickson was the one who was killed, not me."  The inspector bowed his head and tried to control himself.  Everyone in the room was silent until Shirley spoke.  "What happened after the car exploded?"  Blake looked at his father, also wanting to know.  Inspector Hewitt looked at the kids, then his wife.  "As I stared at the flaming wreckage and the other patrons of the tavern got out to see what was going on, I realized that the bomb was meant for me.  I knew who had rigged the bomb."  "E.N.I.G.M.A.," Blake said.  "E.N.I.G.M.A.?" Bo asked.  "E.N.I.G.M.A.," Inspector Hewitt said with hatred.  "It had to be them because Frederickson's car was their target, and I was riding with him.  I guessed that they've been keeping a close eye on me since I made their man talk.  They saw their opportunity to eliminate me and they took it.  By dumb luck, they failed and instead killed an innocent man.  I was lucky that time, but I knew that if E.N.I.G.M.A. found out I was still alive, they would keep trying until I was dead, and I was sure that my luck would run out sooner or later.  Then, I thought about my family."  Inspector Hewitt looked at his wife and son.  "I was afraid that E.N.I.G.M.A. would use them to get to me, and I couldn't put my family at risk.  I had only one course of action to take at that point in order to protect my wife and my son.  From that night on, Inspector Chris Hewitt had to die."  "How did you do it?" Shirley asked.  "When the police came to question everyone about the explosion, I recognized one of the officers who had assisted me during my stay in London.  I called him over and gave my account of what happened.  Then I told him to relay a message to the top officials at Scotland Yard. The next day I met with them and asked them to declare Inspector Chris Hewitt of Interpol dead, killed in a car bomb the previous night.  They were rather surprised by my request, but I told them about my suspicions, leaving E.N.I.G.M.A. out of it.  They knew my reputation in Interpol, so they agreed to my request.  They called my family to tell them of my 'death' and told the newspapers that Frederickson was the one killed in the explosion.  He was with me that night, and since he was the same height and build as I was and his body was burned beyond recognition, it was so easy to pull off the ruse.  To make it up to him, I took over his identity and position.  We managed to enlist the coroner's office's assistance in the matter, and with a few interesting touches, including a wedding ring identical to mine and properly exposed to heat, Frederickson's body was passed off as mine and that was the corpse buried in my grave.  We did so well a cover-up that the probe into my death turned up nothing suspicious.  We fooled everyone."  "What about the other people at the tavern?" Shirley asked the inspector.  "They saw you and Frederickson together, so they knew what you two looked like.  How could you portray Frederickson without anyone recognizing you?"  "Actually, I doubt everyone was too drunk to remember us, so I felt there was no danger of my secret being exposed," Inspector Hewitt answered.  "What about Frederickson's co-workers?" Shirley asked.  "They could've known."  "Actually, Frederickson was very much an introvert; he hardly talked to anyone during or after work.  Before I came along, he kept to himself," Inspector Hewitt explained.  "He was rather eccentric, letting his hair grow long.  In fact, everyone in his department only knew him by his long hair."  He pointed to the wig on the coffee table.  "As long as I wore that wig, I was Frederickson.  Like I said, I owed him.  I had persuaded him to come to the tavern to celebrate, so his death was my fault," he said solemnly.  Dr. Hewitt took her husband's hand and tried to comfort him.  "You didn't know, Chris."  Inspector Hewitt shook his head.  "I can't let that be an excuse, Lauren.  Thanks to me, my friend is dead, and his killers are still on the loose."  He continued his story after sipping some water.  "I swore to Frederickson that I would reveal the group that killed him, and during the time I was 'dead,' I became Frederickson.  I adopted his mannerisms and took his job and his flat.  I continued my inquiries into E.N.I.G.M.A., being more determined to bring them to justice."  "Has E.N.I.G.M.A. tried to kill you?" Blake asked with concern.  "No.  I guess they were also fooled by my charade," Inspector Hewitt said.  "So what brings you to Redington?" Bo asked the inspector.  Inspector Hewitt reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a wrinkled, folded piece of paper.  "This did," he said as he passed the paper to Blake.  "About two weeks ago it was delivered to me at work addressed to Frederickson with no return address."  Blake opened the piece of paper and looked at it.  Shirley and Bo looked over Blake's shoulder.  They saw and read silently the following typed on it:  For your benefit, Mr. Frederickson, friend of Chris Hewitt:  1.  We will capture a lady who is safe, but not at home.  2.  Crimson dying under heavy weight.  3.  Playing is easy, but the clothing is murder.  Try to stop us, if you dare.  Blake handed the paper to his mother so that she could have a look. "Hey, I recognize the first and third riddles!" Bo exclaimed.  "The first one was from the tabloid, and the third one was sent here to the Redington Police Department."  "What is it?" Dr. Hewitt asked after she was finished reading the paper to herself.  "A challenge," Shirley concluded.  "It's a challenge for Frederickson to try to stop E.N.I.G.M.A.'s latest crime--the theft of the Mona Lisa."  "Does this mean E.N.I.G.M.A. knows you're alive?" Blake asked his dad.  "No, although that's what I thought at first," Inspector Hewitt answered.  "Since I haven't had any unusual 'accidents,' I guess they didn't know I was still alive."  "Since you and Frederickson were together while you were in London, an E.N.I.G.M.A. agent could have been monitoring you and concluded that you confided in Frederickson about E.N.I.G.M.A.," Shirley said.  "This was their way of letting Frederickson know about it."  Inspector Hewitt nodded in agreement.  "I believe this was E.N.I.G.M.A.'s way of saying 'hi' to Frederickson, to give him a little opportunity to try and stop them."  "Feeling smug that he would fail," Shirley said.  "This E.N.I.G.M.A. organization, or at least Mr. E, has quite an ego."  "Did you try to solve the riddles?" Blake asked his dad.  "To be honest, at the time, I didn't have any idea what they meant," Inspector Hewitt admitted.  "Everything made sense after I heard that the Mona Lisa was stolen.  Once that happened, I put two and two together.  I had an urge to call the Paris Police and tell them all I knew, but I was afraid that somehow E.N.I.G.M.A. would find out and I would really be dead.  I knew that E.N.I.G.M.A. committed crimes for others, so I figured that someone had hired them to steal the Mona Lisa.  The second and third riddles were, respectively, the city where the Mona Lisa would be brought and the place where the Mona Lisa would be given to the client."  "Well, we figured out the first riddle," Bo said.  "Anyone want to try the others?"  Blake thought for a moment.  "I'm drawing a blank, so far."  Shirley recalled the second riddle aloud.  "Redington," she finally announced.  "Exactly," Inspector Hewitt agreed.  Blake understood and looked at Shirley with admiration.  Bo was confused.  "Huh?" he said with a blank face.  "'Crimson dying under heavy weight,'" Shirley repeated.  "'Crimson' is a type of red.  'Dying' has nothing to do with death; here it means dipping in dye.  'Heavy weight' means 'ton.'  Put it all together and you get 'Redington.'"  "Exactly," Inspector Hewitt said.  "So you mean to tell me that the Mona Lisa is really in Redington?" Bo asked, still trying to take everything in.  "I'm afraid so," Inspector Hewitt acknowledged.  "Somewhere, in my wife's hometown, is the painting sought by law enforcement agencies worldwide.  I managed to get approval to leave for Redington at once, telling my superior at Scotland Yard that I got an anonymous tip that the Mona Lisa was there.  I did not mention the note.  He was hesitant at first, but he let me go anyway, knowing my reputation before I became Frederickson.  During my flight, I was afraid that E.N.I.G.M.A. was tailing me to see if I was a serious threat.  Once I landed in Redington, I checked into a motel and searched every clothing store and sporting goods store I could find on foot so that I wasn't easy to track.  I figured that the third riddle referred to one of those."  Dr. Hewitt looked at the third riddle.  "Well, it can be one of them."  Both Bo and Blake looked at Shirley, wondering if she had some ideas. She just stood there silently, thinking and ready to listen to the rest of the inspector's story.  Inspector Hewitt continued.  "Fighting jet lag and finding nothing, I decided to take a break..."  "At a supermarket," Shirley finished.  "I saw you there buying a tabloid and a bottle of Pepto-Bismol.  You kept looking for E.N.I.G.M.A. agents, your fear of them has affected your stomach, and you were rather upset when you read the article about the Mona Lisa."  "Correct again, Shirley," Inspector Hewitt said, amazed at her powers of deduction.  "I wasn't the same since I heard of that evil organization."  "Hold on a minute."  Bo held up his hand to get everyone's attention. He just remembered  something.  "When you cornered us, did you really think we were E.N.I.G.M.A. agents?" he asked the inspector.  "Well, not quite.  I thought E.N.I.G.M.A. hired you to keep an eye on me," Inspector Hewitt said.  "They've done it before in Peru."  "You didn't recognize me?" Blake asked, amazed at how his dad did not know his own son.  "To be honest, it's been a while, son.  Sorry for scaring you like that," Inspector Hewitt apologized to his son and his friends.  "When I saw Shirley and her hat, I was about to panic."  "I guess you haven't found the Mona Lisa, huh, Dad?" Blake said.  Inspector Hewitt shook his head sadly.  "I've searched every clothing store and sporting goods store I could, and I've found nothing."  He did not sound enthusiastic.  "I guess I'm too late."  He looked at his wife and son as he got up from the sofa.  "I'll be leaving now."  "Why?" Dr. Hewitt asked.  She could not believe that her husband, thought dead, was going to leave her and their son again.  "E.N.I.G.M.A.," Blake said, trying not to express any emotion.  "I'm afraid so, son," Inspector Hewitt said as he put on his wig. "They're still out there, and I won't rest until I expose them."  He looked at Dr. Hewitt.  "You know I can't stay. If E.N.I.G.M.A. found out that Frederickson and Chris Hewitt were really the same person, we'd all be dead."  "Why'd you bother coming back?" Blake asked with a little anger in his voice.  "Because," Inspector Hewitt began, "I wanted to see my family one last time before E.N.I.G.M.A. got to me.  I'm sure they know of my actions and consider me a threat.  I've got to go before they get me."  Dr. Hewitt got up from the sofa and hugged her husband tightly.  Blake joined the family embrace, knowing that it would be the last one. Shirley and Bo watched them.  The Hewitt family broke up the group hug.  "So you're going back to England?"  Blake looked at his dad.  "If I'm lucky," Inspector Hewitt said.  "The Mona Lisa's been moved, so no sense of being a sitting target."  "Actually, you still have a chance," Shirley told Inspector Hewitt. "The Mona Lisa's still in Redington."  All eyes were on Shirley.  "Come again?" Bo said.  "The Mona Lisa is still in Redington.  E.N.I.G.M.A. hasn't moved it yet," Shirley said.  She looked at Bo and Blake.  "I was going to tell you before Inspector Hewitt paid us a surprise visit.  I managed to pinpoint its exact location."  "You know where the Mona Lisa is?" Inspector Hewitt's voice was full of hope.  "I do," Shirley said matter-of-factly.  "Where is it?" Blake asked.  Everyone looked at Shirley, who finally announced the location of the stolen famous painting.  "The Redington Community Theater."  Everyone was silent.  Inspector Hewitt quickly thanked Shirley for her help and ran out the door.  "This time I've got them," he said to himself.  Soon, a car was heard leaving the area.  Blake looked at Shirley.  "How...?"  "I'll explain on our way there," Shirley said before taking off after the inspector.  Before Dr. Hewitt could stop them, Blake and Bo followed her out the door and into the night. END OF PART FIVE     More Fanfics