The Kidnapper

by Robert Bloch

  Even with Mary, that first week, I was using my head. We’d lay there in my room, afternoons—the landlady was an old bag, Mrs. Delehanty, she always had a bottle of that Jewish wine in her room and she didn’t give a damn whether school kept or not. So we’d lay there and talk, and I kept asking questions.

  “What kind of people are they, the ones you work for?”

  “Oh, they treat me real nice. Mrs. Warren gave me this dress, she wears the same size I do, only she has so many clothes she doesn’t know what to do with them all. You should see it, Steve—two great big closets full of clothes, and a mink coat and I don’t know what all.”

  “Lots of money, huh?”

  “Well, Mr. Warren’s the president of the Acme Trust, you know that. And I guess he owns most of Levitt-Cooper. That’s that big knitting mill.”

  “He around much?”

  “Why, he takes trips to New York about once a month and you know—” She sat up. “Oh, Steve, what do you want to talk about them for?”

  “Just interested.”

  “Kiss me.”

  “In a minute.”

  “Please.”

  I batted her hand down. “I told you just a minute. I don’t like it when you interrupt me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She was, too. Boy, I could wind her around my little finger.

  “Mrs. Warren has a lot of clothes,” I said. “I suppose she goes in for jewelry and stuff, too.”

  “I’ll say. There’s this fancy necklace she wears to parties—it’s like a choker, sort of all diamonds. Real ones, too, not imitation. And she has a bracelet to match that she got for their fifth anniversary, and about a dozen rings.”

  “Say, do these people ever go away together? Like say on a vacation?”

  “I guess so. I only been there since September, you know, but last winter they were all set to go to Mexico only Shirley Mae got diphtheria.”

  “Shirley Mae? Oh, yeah, the kid.”

  “You should see her, Steve, honestly, she’s so cute! Some day you can walk over to school with me and call for her. She calls me Mary—”

  “Shut up. I was asking about vacations.”

  “I heard Mrs. Warren say something the other day about going to California this summer, after school lets out. Gee, I was so excited, I figured maybe they’d take me along. But that was before I met you.”

  “You don’t want to go now, eh?”

  “And be away from you? Steve, I’d die.”

  I kissed her. She had it coming.

  “Oh, darling.” She sure could make a production number out of it. “I never knew it could be like this. If you only knew how lonesome I used to get. And now—”

  “You like this, eh?”

  “Can’t you tell?” She pulled my head down. “Steve. Do you love me?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I just want to hear you say it.”

  “I’d rather do it than talk about it.”

  “Just once, Steve. Please.”

  I pulled my head away.

  “What’s the matter, darling? Don’t you feel well?”

  “I feel all right. It’s only that I’m getting damned sick of listening to all this romance crap. Where the hell you think you are, in the movies or something?”

  “Don’t be angry, darling. I didn’t know it made you nervous. Only a woman kind of likes to be told that—”

  “I got my own way of telling things.” I reached over and grabbed her. “Like this.”

  Catch me telling some dumb broad that I love her! I could of crowned her, except that I was using my head. I was getting what I wanted from her, and not just the way you think, either. Those questions were beginning to tell me what I wanted to know.

  That’s what I call using my head. Asking her about the setup there where she worked. I was beginning to get a pretty smart idea.

  So other times, I found out more stuff. The way the house was laid out, when their chauffeur came to work, how often they had people over nights. I got more of a line on this Warren guy, too—Raymond E. Warren, his full name was. He collected old coins for a hobby. He used to get high about once every two weeks down at the Athletic Club. He wouldn’t eat scrambled eggs. Oh, I learned a lot.

  Some of it wasn’t important—I should give a damn if he ate scrambled eggs or not, or collected Indian head pennies or whatever.

  But what was important was how the house was laid out. And when they were going to California. And if the place would be empty this summer. And whether or nor Mrs. Warren was going to take all her ice with her.

  You can see what I was driving at now, what I mean when I say I never stop thinking.

  I’d never pulled off a house job before, but from the way this thing shaped up, it might be plenty easy. The right way to work it wouldn’t be to try crashing in there some night. The right way would be if they left Mary home this summer while they were gone. And I just got in the habit of dropping in.

  That would be the perfect setup. One fast haul and I could be on my way to Toledo. There’s two or three good diamond fences in Toledo I heard about.

  Of course, I wasn’t set on the job, yet. I’d have to figure a way of working it so that Mary stayed home. I’d have to check and double-check on the ice being there. I’d have to get the whole deal set up in my mind so there wouldn’t be a chance of anything going haywire.

  By the end of the week, I was certain I could swing it. She’d stay here—and I even thought of a way for her to make it perfect. Along about the time school closed she’d start complaining about not feeling so well. Dizzy spells, stuff like that. And she’d go to a doctor, and he’d tell her she had to rest for a couple of months.

  So chances were, if I coached her on just how to pull it, the Warrens would fall for her act. And she’d stay on at the house, alone, while they went to California.

  I wouldn’t have to monkey around, then, making diagrams of rooms and all that crap. I’d just walk in and take over.

  Nights, after work, I sat in my room figuring it out. I even got the bus schedules for Toledo; then I thought what the hell, if it came to pulling the job I’d buy me a car first. That way I’d make my deal in Toledo and go barreling right down to Florida.

  It was a great idea, all right. Only trouble was, one afternoon in my room, Mary had news for me.

  “Steve, you know something?”

  “Huh?”

  “I’ve been so worried these last few days.”

  “Why?” I sat up right away, and from the look on my face I guess she knew I smelled trouble.

  “Oh, it’s not—what you’re thinking. I mean, I was worried because I’d have to go away with them to California this summer.”

  “Well, what about it?”

  “It’s out, that’s what. Mrs. Warren told me this morning, they’re not going, because they’re buying a new house instead.”

  “Where?”

  “Out further, on Ranger Road, I guess. They’re going to drive out there Saturday and I’ll see it. A real big ranch-style, she said. It costs eighty thousand dollars. But isn’t it wonderful? Now I’ll be here this summer.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I wouldn’t have gone anyway, Steve. You know I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have left my lover, my sweetheart, my—”

  “Cut it out and leave me alone.”

  “Steve, aren’t you happy? Aren’t you—”

  “Sure, I’m happy.” I got up and lit a cigarette. “Only I don’t feel so hot. Guess I’m getting a cold or something.”

  It wasn’t her fault because this rich bastard was laying eighty grand on the line for a fancy shack instead of going on his lousy vacation.

  Only my plans were spoiled. And I’d been getting so I was counting on that diamond job.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go for a walk or something. I’m sick of this stinking room.”

  “All right, Steve. It’s almost four, anyway. Maybe we can walk over to the school together.”

&n
bsp; “I don’t care.”

  The way I felt, I’d just as soon walked her to the nearest pier and dumped her off. I was beginning to get a little tired of the whole thing. Every day like this was a little bit too much.

  I was getting fed up on all her love stuff, too. She was just a dumb kid, and having her around all the time got on my nerves. I wouldn’t have minded putting up with her until the job came off—but now there wasn’t going to be any caper.

  So when I walked along with her, over to the school, I began to try and figure out a way of shaking loose of her. Not just telling her to go to hell, because it would be nice to have her around for kicks once in a while. But I’d have to scheme up some story about a day job, part-time, or something.

  “You haven’t said a word for five minutes,” she told me. Just as if I didn’t know it.

  “It’s this cold. I feel lousy.”

  “Oh, you poor darling! Maybe you shouldn’t go to work tonight.”

  “I’ll be all right. Got to get some rest.”

  “Have I been—too much for you?” So help me, she was blushing.

  “No. Oh, forget it. I’ll be all right, I tell you.”

  “Let me feel your forehead.”

  “Keep your hands off me!”

  “I’m sorry.” We turned the corner, and she said, “Here we are. I’ll just go to the door and wait for her. She should be down in a minute. We always walk to the corner and Paul picks us up in the car. He can’t park here.”

  “Oh, the chauffeur. Well, okay then. I’ll get going.”

  “No, Steve. Wait. I want you to see her. She’s such a doll.”

  “Well—”

  “It’ll only take a minute. Oh, here she comes now.”

  A bunch of kids were coming out of this big private school, most of them with their old ladies or maids. But this one was all alone.

  She wore a red hat and a coat to match, and she had long black hair hanging down to her shoulders. But she was a skinny-looking kid, and her nose was kind of big. I didn’t think she was anything to get excited about.

  Mary brought her up to me.

  “Shirley Mae, this is a friend of mine. Mr. Collins. Steve, this is Shirley Mae Warren.”

  “Hello,” she said, and held out her hand.

  So I took it, not knowing what else to do.

  And that’s how I shook hands with trouble.

  Chapter Four

  I hadn’t been kidding about that cold. By the time I got to work that night my head was all stuffed up, and when I got off it was worse. I didn’t feel like eating, and I couldn’t taste cigarettes any more. Even Specs noticed it.

  “You sick or something?”

  “Cold.”

  “You sure? Maybe this girl friend of yours—”

  “Shut up and leave me alone.”

  “All right, Steve. Gee, you don’t look so hot. You better get some sleep. My old lady, she always used to tell me to take a good hot bath and then—”

  “To hell with your old lady. I’m going home.”

  I went home and took a hot bath and went to bed. But I couldn’t sleep. And by noon I was good and sick.

  Mary showed up around one, like she always did, now, and I wouldn’t let her in.

  “I got a cold,” I told her. “I’m staying in bed.”

  She handed me a long line about going out for some kind of tablets or something, and why didn’t I call a doctor, and so forth and so on. I told her to shut up and go away, and she did, finally.

  Then I lay there and began to shake. Fever. It wasn’t a cold, it was flu. I knew, I had it before.

  Ended up I was in bed for five days. Didn’t even go out to eat, felt sicker than a dog. This fever and all those dreams.

  Mary brought me stuff from the store, soup and coffee and things like that. I didn’t want any doctor. I just wanted to stay in bed. She was real worried, tried to play nurse, but I told her to get out and she did.

  I was sick of her, sick of the plan that wouldn’t work, sick of the whole damned setup. That’s what was really the matter with me.

  Nights, I’d lay there and look up at the car lights flashing across the ceiling. Sometimes they made patterns, like big eyes moving around in the room, watching me. Mrs. Delehanty came up one night, half-lit, and wanted to know what was the matter. I told her I was sick and to go away.

  So she left me alone, too. And I lay in bed and had these dreams, these nightmares. For a while I didn’t think at all.

  And then, one morning I woke up and the fever was gone. The fever was gone, and I was thinking again.

  It was like I picked up just where I’d left off—with meeting this Shirley Mae.

  And then the whole idea seemed to hit me all at once.

  Jewelry?

  That was for the birds.

  These people had the biggest jewel in the world right under my nose, just sitting and waiting for somebody to come along and grab it.

  Shirley Mae Warren.

  Her old man was president of the bank and he owned a big factory. He just bought a house for eighty grand. He was rolling in it. And if he’d pay eighty grand for a house he didn’t need, what would he pay if somebody snatched his kid and he wanted her back?

  Talk about jewelry!

  I sat up in bed and started to shake all over again. Only it wasn’t the fever this time. It was just that this idea had hit me, and it was big, and I knew I could do it.

  Get that? I knew I could do it.

  Easy?

  Hell, no. I’m no sucker, I know the score on a kidnapping rap. It’s a state offense, it’s a federal offense, and you can burn for it. If they catch you.

  But that’s where the thinking part comes in. So they won’t catch you.

  And the setup was perfect. Just perfect!

  Sitting there that afternoon, that night, I kind of figured it all out in my head, step by step.

  Next morning I felt better and I got up. I went out and had breakfast, and I checked back over everything I’d been working on. Like asking myself questions. What if this goes wrong, what if that doesn’t turn out? Every angle I could think of.

  But it was still perfect.

  And the way to do it was just the way I’d thought it out—step by step.

  The first step would be Mary.

  There was one sure way to get to Mary, and I knew it. I started as soon as I was feeling all right.

  She came around, of course, and I told her I was going back to work.

  “Oh, I’m glad, darling. I was so worried.” Right away she wanted to get affectionate, but I stalled her off.

  “Let’s take it easy for a day or two until I get back in shape,” I told her. “I still got a lot of germs in my system.” Like hell I had, but I knew what I was doing.

  “All right, Steve,” she said, and I could tell she was plenty disappointed, only she wouldn’t let on.

  “Did you see the new house?” I asked her.

  “Yes, Saturday, and is it ever keen!” She told me all about the place. It was quite a layout, from what she said. Three-car garage, five bedrooms, three bathrooms. What the hell anybody needs with three bathrooms I don’t know, but the richer you are the more bathrooms you got to have, I guess.

  “We’re going to move in around July first. The only trouble is, darling, how can I see you every day then?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Maybe I’ll buy a car.”

  “Gee, that’d be swell. You got enough money?”

  “I been saving.”

  “That’s a good job you have at the factory, Steve, isn’t it? Do you think you’ll ever get on days?”

  “I could if I wanted to. But then how would I get to see you regular?”

  She didn’t say anything, and I knew what she was thinking. Not that she’d come right out with it, but all broads got only one idea in their heads—they’re out to hook you into getting married.

  “Besides, I’m a funny guy, Mary. Never can tell when I’m gonna get the old itch to get
moving.”

  “Steve, you wouldn’t go away.”

  “Of course not. I was only talking.” I laughed. “Say, I got some errands to do downtown. I better get going.”

  “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  “Better make it the day after.”

  She looked at me. “You wouldn’t kid me, would you?”

  “What do you mean, kid you?”

  “You haven’t got some other girl on the string, have you, Steve?”

  “How the heck could I? I been sick in bed all week.”

  “Yes, I know. But if you ever got another girl, I’d—I’d—”

  “You’d what?”

  “I’d kill her!”

  It was all I could do to keep from busting out laughing, because of the way she looked when she said it. She really meant it, too, but the idea of Mary killing anybody was funny. A soft kid like her couldn’t hurt a fly.

  Anyway, she was getting worried and that’s what I wanted. I fixed up a date with her for the day after tomorrow and then I went downtown.

  The first thing I did, I went into the Public Library and looked up a book on kidnapping. They had one there with about a dozen stories in it, true stories, on the Lindbergh case and a lot of other ones, even that last one down south where they got $600,000 for ransom money.

  I stayed in the reading room all afternoon, just going through that book. I went out to supper and came back again and finished it up. I didn’t go to work—one day more wouldn’t kill them back at the shop. I wanted to check on all these cases, see where they made their mistakes. And I found plenty.

  Every time I ran across something, I made kind of a mental note on it, to think it over later. I got a lot of dope on how they got the ransom money, and how the police and the FBI operated. Most of all, I was looking to see how these guys finally got caught.

  Almost every time it was the same thing. They went on the lam the minute they had the dough, and sooner or later somebody spotted them from their descriptions and picked them up. And they got drunk and waved all this moola around. Stuff like that was stupid, just plain stupid.