The Kidnapper

by Robert Bloch

“They can’t trace this letter?”

  “Not in a million years. So quit bothering about it and tell me what you do next.”

  “Next I drive back home and get ready to go to work.”

  “That’s right. And be sure you tell Healey or somebody on the floor about the movie.”

  “That cowboy picture?”

  “That’s the one. Tell him how good it was, he should see it tomorrow afternoon at the matinee, like you did.”

  “All right. But I don’t know how I’m gonna get through tonight.”

  “Just think about the sixty-six grand you got coming. That’s how to get through it. Hell, the news won’t even be in the papers, yet. And I doubt if it hits the radio until after everybody’s left for the night shift. So don’t worry. And tomorrow noon, you get over to that drug-store and wait for me to call.”

  “Right.”

  I looked at my watch. “Well, time we got started.”

  “Steve, you’re absolutely sure about all this?”

  “Absolutely. Come on, boy. In less than an hour it’ll be all over.”

  I waved at him instead of slamming him one the way I felt like doing. Then I waited until he got in his old heap and drove away.

  I turned the Olds around and took the other road back. It wasn’t a long drive, but I thought it would last forever.

  It was all Specs’ fault. Him and his goddam worrying. He got me jittery too, now. Even though everything was planned. Nobody knew better than I did that something could go wrong. A lot of things.

  There could be somebody notice them getting into the car at the alley, or turn down there while they were tying the kid up. But it had to be done.

  Mary hadn’t gone for that part at all. I had to explain over and over again that this story about the Mexicans I told her was out. On account of the kid being there and seeing who picked them up. It would only work my way—make it look like Specs pulled a gun and forced them in, then knocked her out.

  After the kid was tied and blindfolded, I’d be waiting in the other alley to take over. The kid would never know about the Olds, what it looked like. The kid would never see me. The kid would never even know Mary was still along—because I was going to talk like she’d come to and I was throwing her out. She’d ride back in front with me and keep her mouth shut.

  And when we got out there, the kid still wouldn’t know where she was—or see anything either. Because I’d keep those hands tied and that blindfold on.

  Mary was hard to sell when I told her this. She was afraid the kid might get hurt. But I convinced her we could feed her and keep her warm out there in the garage until dark, then bring her in. And she mustn’t hear Mary’s voice or anything. It was the only way.

  Of course there were a lot of hitches in that part of it, too. I could get messed up when we changed cars in the other alley. We might have a flat or a crazy accident on the way out. The kid could accidentally see or hear something in spite of everything.

  But there was no other way that made sense. It was a big risk from beginning to end—but that two hundred thousand was a big stake. It was worth the gamble. My share of the pot, mine and Mary’s, was $133,666. Not bad, with no taxes.

  So driving back, I finally took my own advice and just thought about the dough.

  I wheeled into the alley at five minutes to three. All clear. I sat there, making a last-minute checkup. Thinking of all the things Mary had to do. Carry the head scarf and wear it in the car. Take the sun glasses and put them on. Get the kid around on the right side of the car without anyone noticing or following them. And most important of all, keep her trap shut. Before, during, and after.

  Well, it was too late to do anything more. She and Specs were on their own. The big job would be up to me.

  I looked at my watch. One minute to go.

  One minute and it would all be starting. And once it started you could never stop. You couldn’t go back, you just had to go through with it.

  Kidnapping is risky business.

  But two hundred grand is enough money to last a lifetime, if you know where to go and what to do with it.

  And I couldn’t turn back now. It was as if everything I’d ever done had somehow led right up to this moment.

  I looked at my watch again.

  Three o’clock, on the head. This was it.

  The snatch was on.

  Chapter Nine

  The car came tearing down the alley at eight minutes after. I started my motor and waited. Specs turned off and shoved on the brakes at the same time. Our bumpers almost touched.

  He jumped out and nodded at the back seat. Mary sat up. I got out and opened the rear door.

  “Okay, sister—here’s where you get off!” I said. “Now get out of here and don’t tell anyone what happened or I’ll kill you.”

  That was for the kid. The kid was lying on the floor in back. I took a good look at her to make sure the handkerchief was tight over her eyes and the rope was knotted around her wrists. She was crying, but not loud. She didn’t look like she was in such bad shape.

  I reached in and picked her up, fast. Out of the corner of my eye I was watching Mary slip something to Specs. The hair ribbon and the kid’s handkerchief.

  Meanwhile I got my own handkerchief out and put it over the kid’s mouth, for a gag. Mary saw me do it and started to say something. I shook my head. “Sorry, kid,” I said—but I was really talking to Mary. “I got to do this, can’t have you bawling.”

  Then I stuck her in the back seat of the Olds, on her side. With her hands tied she couldn’t sit up.

  Mary climbed in next to me. I gave the bug the gun and backed down the alley, watching through the rear-view mirror. I didn’t see any cars, any people. So far so good.

  As soon as I was clear, Specs got back into the driver’s seat. I watched him put on his glasses again and pull away. He’d sure looked different without his glasses. Now, if he ditched his old suit like I told him to, they’d never be able to identify him.

  I waited until I saw his car turn out into the street. Then I followed. He turned right at the end of the alley and I turned left.

  Still nobody in sight. I looked at Mary now, but I didn’t have to look—I could feel her against me, trembling.

  Without saying the words out loud I moved my lips so she could see me. “Snap out of it. Head scarf. Glasses.”

  She got them out of her purse, put the scarf on and then the glasses. I drove along at about thirty-five. No sense getting panicky and speeding.

  The kid was making sounds under the gag. Mary frowned. Her hand dug into my arm. I reached over and slapped it down.

  I looked at my watch. Just twenty after. Specs should be at the post office by now, mailing the letter. Fast work, but my hands were tired and my neck was stiff like I’d been driving for hours.

  I made myself take deep breaths, to relax. Then I got a cigarette into my mouth, but I couldn’t taste it so I threw it away.

  Mary started to look around again, at the kid. I tugged at her shoulder and she stopped.

  Then we were on the highway and rolling. It was just quarter to four when we pulled in the driveway. I got out, left the motor running, and opened the garage door. Then I drove right in.

  Mary and I got out of the same side of the car, so only one door would slam. I didn’t figure the kid would hear us, but no sense taking any chances. I walked her up to the back door, opened it, and pushed her into the house. Nobody’d seen us.

  “How’d it go?” I asked, when the door was closed behind us again.

  “Oh, Steve, you aren’t going to leave her out there that way—she’s tied so tight, I’m afraid she’ll—”

  I grabbed her and shook her. “How’d it go!” I said.

  “All right.”

  “Nobody noticed anything?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I shook her again. “Don’t guess at it. Are you sure?”

  “Y-yes. I’m sure.”

  “Then we’re okay.”
/>
  She started for the door and I grabbed her arm.

  “Where you think you’re going?”

  “I want to see if she’s all right. Maybe I can loosen that rope a little—”

  I walked over to her and slapped her in the mouth.

  “No you don’t. I explained how you can’t go out there. I’ll see that she gets along. You got a job to do, remember? Hop into the john and get busy with that hair-dye.”

  “Steve, you hurt me.”

  “Steve, you hurt me.” I imitated her whiney voice. “That’s only a sample of what you got coming if you get any more ideas. Now get moving, quick. This isn’t a game—we’re playing for keeps, now. They hang you for kidnapping in this state.”

  I thought for a minute she was going to pass out. I went over and grabbed hold of her just in time.

  “Mary, I’m sorry. Honest I am. Look, I’m just as nervous as you are—maybe more. But I got to control myself. You got to control yourself. That’s why I said that, about what they do to you if they catch you. Only just remember one thing; you do what you’re told and nobody’s going to get caught.”

  “Steve, I wish—”

  “Never mind. I know what you wish. But everything’s fine so far. The kid isn’t hurt. In a couple days she’ll be back home playing in the yard. And we’ll be having our fun on a pile of twenty-dollar bills.” I kissed her, and it was like kissing a piece of ice. “That’s my girl! Now you run along and turn yourself into Marilyn Monroe or somebody, and I’ll go look after the kid.”

  She went into the john and shut the door.

  I walked out to the garage. I went inside and shut the overhead behind me, turned on the light.

  The kid was still lying on the seat, wriggling around and whimpering. When she heard me come in, she began to get louder.

  I climbed into the back seat and lifted her so that she was sitting up.

  “Listen, kid,” I said. “Can you hear me?”

  She nodded.

  “Then stop crying, will you? Nobody’s going to hurt you. You’ll be all right.”

  She made some sounds under the handkerchief and I could tell she was trying to say something like, “I want my Mamma.”

  “Of course you want your Mamma,” I said. “And I’m going to take you back to her. In just a little while. But you’ve got to behave. No more crying, understand?”

  She didn’t nod or anything, but she quieted down. I could feel how warm she was, sitting next to me like that.

  It made me feel funny all of a sudden. I looked at her, and she was a mess. Hair all tangled, and this handkerchief over her eyes and another one over her mouth. Her blouse was torn, too. I reached down and looked at her hands. They were white and cold. They’d tied the rope pretty tight. Come to think of it, it must of been pretty bad for her, all this happening so quick. She was awful skinny. I noticed that again.

  “Look, kid,” I said. “I’m fixing this rope so it’s a little looser. It won’t make your wrists sore then. That okay?”

  She jerked her head up and down. I reached over and untied the knot, then tied it again after I moved the rope up a little. Her wrists were all red where it had cut in.

  “That’s better now, isn’t it?” I asked. “See, nobody’ll hurt you if you behave. And if you’re a good girl, I’ll come out after a while and bring you some supper.”

  She nodded again. She was getting the idea.

  “Meanwhile,” I said, “why don’t you just lay down on the seat here and go to sleep? I’ll go and fix supper—don’t you worry, the door’ll be closed and nobody’s coming in to bother you. Just lay down and pretend you’re at home in your own bed. That’s a girl! Here, I’ll put this blanket over you. Now, go to sleep.”

  Hell, you’d think I was saying goodnight to my own kid or something. But she lay down without a peep out of her, and I got out of the car and closed the door.

  I went back into the house and turned on the radio, soft. Mary was still in the john, and I could hear water running in the bath tub. I knew there was a 4:45 news broadcast, and I wanted to hear it without her listening.

  It came in fine and clear.

  “Good afternoon, everyone. This is Arch Wesley and the news. Today’s biggest headline comes from Washington, D.C., where top government officials announced this morning that—”

  I switched the radio off again. I knew the pattern. Any big local story always was announced first. They hadn’t sent out a report on the kidnapping yet. Or notified anyone that the kid was missing. I kept forgetting they hadn’t had time to get that letter. Right now, it seemed as if this had all started days ago.

  Anyway, it was all right.

  I went out to the kitchen and monkeyed around in the icebox, looking over the groceries I’d brought out. Then I got out the frying-pan and set the table. I had bought some steaks, but I figured it would be easier to fix hamburgers right now. Easier to feed them to the kid, that is.

  Just about the time I was ready to get rolling on the cooking, the bathroom door opened and Mary said, “Did you go out there?”

  “Sure,” I said. “And everything’s all right. I loosened her wrists for her and she stopped crying. She even went to sleep.”

  “That’s swell.”

  “Sure it’s swell. Stop worrying, Mary. How you feel now?”

  “I took a bath, a hot bath. Now I feel better.”

  “Of course you do.” I walked over to the door. “That’s good for you, makes you relax. Did you fix your hair?”

  “I’m just letting it dry before I put it up. It should be all right by tonight.”

  “Everything’ll be all right by tonight. I’m getting us some supper ready. Nothing more to worry about. We’re okay, the kid’s okay.”

  The minute I said it, I felt better. It made her feel better, too. All the panic was gone, and nothing was left but a sort of excited feeling. The same feeling you get when you’re sitting in on a big poker game, and you’re playing your hand close to your belly because you know you’ve got a cinch, you’re bound to win.

  “Let’s see how your hair looks,” I said.

  “It isn’t ready yet. I haven’t got any clothes on.”

  I opened the door. She was standing by the wash bowl, looking in the mirror and trying to put in some curlers or whatever you call them.

  “Say, that’s nice,” I told her. “I always did like blondes.”

  “You really think it looks good?” She turned around.

  “You know what I think?” I walked right up to her.

  “Steve, let go, what if somebody—”

  I kissed her, hard. “There’s nobody around,” I said. “Nobody but us. The two of us, together, from now on in.”

  And all at once it was true, there was just the two of us in the whole world, the two of us with all that tightness inside, fighting to get out. I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

  It was pitch dark when I went back to the kitchen again. She fixed her hair and I made the hamburgers.

  “Go ahead and eat while they’re still warm,” I said. “I’ll be right back.” I got one of those little cardboard cartons with a half pint of milk in it, and I put a hamburger on a plate and a cruller.

  “This ought to hold the kid,” I said.

  “Make sure she drinks all her milk,” Mary told me. “Then maybe you can bring her in. It’s dark enough now. She probably has to go to the bathroom.”

  I nodded and went out.

  I went into the garage and switched on the light. I had to set the food down on the floor, first, and when I got the light on I stood up again and something hit me in the back.

  I jumped about a foot, and then I noticed it was only the car door, swinging open against me.

  It was only the car door, but it was the rear door.

  I turned around and saw how it was.

  What had happened was that she had her hands looser than before, and could use them. She couldn’t untie the bandage or the gag, but she could reach out
and find the door handle and open it.

  Only thing is, she was still blindfolded and didn’t know where she was going. So the door came open, and she must of leaned against it and slipped.

  That’s why she was lying there on the cement. She’d fallen straight out on her head. There was no blood or anything, but I could tell what had happened from the way her neck was bent.

  Even before I reached down to turn her over, even before I felt her, all cold and with her head dangling like a chicken’s, I saw how it was, knew what had happened.

  She was dead.

  Chapter Ten

  I didn’t do anything, then.

  There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t think, and it was hard enough just trying to keep from passing out.

  She was dead.

  And that meant—

  I leaned against the wall and tried to figure out just what it meant.

  Then the answer came to me.

  Nothing.

  It meant nothing. A minute before I was ready to scream, run away, bat my head against the concrete, all kinds of crazy things. Now I was calm again. Because it meant nothing, if I stayed calm.

  The kid was dead. But the ransom note had been sent, and they’d pay up. The only difference was that now they wouldn’t be getting their kid back. Too bad, but that’s the way the ball bounces sometimes. Hell, I didn’t kill her. I was bringing her some supper.

  And it didn’t matter either way, as far as the law was concerned. They’d hang me if they caught me, either way.

  Only they wouldn’t catch me. Not if I stayed calm, and just played the hand out.

  It would be a little different hand, but I still held all the cards. For one thing, I’d have to figure out what to do with the body. That wasn’t good—but I’d hit on something.

  The next problem would be handling Mary and Specs. I couldn’t let them go overboard on account of this thing.

  I’d just have to figure things one at a time, now. And there was no sense rushing.

  So I lit a cigarette and smoked it down to the butt. That helped a little. But it was still bad, having to pick her up and put her back on the seat. I managed to do it, all right, and I covered her up. She looked like she was sleeping.