Free Witness to Murder by Franklin W. Dixon

asked.
    Joe studied this man who was so persistent and sure of himself. He didn't look like he'd be a friend of Phil Sidler's. Tall, middle-aged, graying slightly at the temples, he might have been a college professor or a businessman.
    Maybe he had found out about the robbery and decided this was an easy way to make his fortune. Or maybe he headed a rival gang and the two were fighting over this haul. That was it, Joe decided. The guy had to be a rival of Cutter's.
    Joe was trying to identify his slight accent, although he wasn't sure what good that would do.
    "Who are you?" Joe insisted.
    "A concerned party." The man pointed toward the van with the gun. When Annie didn't move right away, he gave her a quick shove with the flat of his hand.
    Joe had no choice but to climb back into the van with Annie. The tall man settled himself in the seat behind Joe and Annie so he could keep the gun trained on her.
    "Back to Bayport, Joe," he instructed. "I'll leave my rental car here."
    So he'd been watching the house and he'd followed them the whole way. Joe felt like an incompetent beginner. How had the guy done it? And how did he know where they lived? They had left him unconscious in that parking garage ! in New York City.
    Joe glanced at his gas gauge. It was approaching empty. Good. What would this man be able to do with a car out of gas on the highway in the middle of the night?
    "What good will it do us to return to Bayport?" Joe asked, trying to get the guy to talk. Maybe he'd let something slip.
    "We're going on a little treasure hunt with Annie planning the itinerary. Someone has three million dollars' worth of diamonds, and I want them."
    "Three million?" Joe whistled. No wonder the thieves were so insistent.
    "Three million?" Annie echoed.
    "It doesn't take that many diamonds if they're quality ones. They could be hidden in a very small space." Joe decided that the tall man knew what he was talking about.
    "You think Phil Sidler had them? That he really did double-cross Cutter and his men?" Joe asked.
    The man relaxed back into his seat. He seemed willing to talk, but Joe noticed that he kept the gun leveled at Annie. "Phil did have them at first," he said, "But they weren't in his hotel at Bayport or in his apartment in New York. We're still looking for them. Logic tells me that Phil either - gave them to Annie or that he told her where they were hidden."
    "How many times do I have to tell people I have no idea what's going on here?" Annie protested. "Phil told me nothing, and I certainly don't have three million dollars' worth of diamonds or I wouldn't be here."
    "If Phil had told Annie anything, she'd have told the police," said Joe. "Wouldn't you, Annie?"
    "Of course I would." Annie turned her head and stared out her window.
    Joe was not so sure. Three million dollars would tempt almost anyone, he thought. He was at a point where he didn't know what to believe, so he concentrated on driving. Until he thought of a plan, he wasn't in control of the situation, anyway.
    "Of course, it is possible that the hiding place of the jewels died with Phil," the man in the backseat said. "Who are you?" Joe asked again. "You're not in Cutter's gang. You're not a friend of Phil's. What's your connection with all this? Are you part of a tour group? Did you miss your bus?" The man smiled. He seemed pleased by Joe's defiance. "Let's just say that I'm trying to return the diamonds to their rightful owner." "And who is that?" Joe turned slightly, only to see the gun raised and aimed at him.
    This time there was no answer. They droVe a few miles in silence and then, "Slow down, Joe. Drive the minimum speed for a few miles."
    Joe sighed, resigning himself to following orders until he was in a position to disarm their passenger. He slowed the van to forty miles an hour, a mere crawl on the turnpike. There was no traffic on the highway now. The clock in the van read two a. m.
    "Can I turn on the radio?" Joe asked with some sarcasm in his voice.