Kidnapping A Kidnapper

by Bill Sage

  The utter irrationality of it really got to Roth. It was driving him up a wall. He could feel his blood pressure zooming through the roof.

  After a few more excruciating minutes, Roth couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Counsel, you’re asking questions that have no relevance to the witness’s testimony. I don’t need to remind you that your cross-examination must be relevant to either the elements of the offense or to credibility.”

  “Sorry, Your Honor. Just one or two questions and I’ll be finished.”

  “I’m not going to let you continue with the same line of questioning. So, you better have something that’s relevant to his testimony.”

  “I understand, Your Honor.”

  After the attorney asked a few face-saving questions, Roth called a recess and rushed to his chambers.

  Sitting at his desk, Roth was thinking, Boy, I could use a drink now. That schmuck was driving me nuts.

  After settling down, he called Ben at the safe house. Phil answered.

  “Hi, Judge Roth.”

  “Please call me Al.”

  “I wanted to make sure before I did.”

  “Can you put Ben on?”

  Phil handed Ben the phone,

  “Al…,” Ben said.

  “There’s one question you need to ask Sands. It could tell us what we want to know.”

  Then Roth told Ben what it was.

  “Ah…great question,” Ben said. “I’ll do it right away. Let you know what he says.”

  “Good man.” Al hung up.

  Roth took the bench again and resumed the trial. The DA called the undercover officer’s partner, who was outside of the house when the sale went down. His direct examination wasn’t long or complicated, but with the defense attorney objecting to every other question, it took close to a half hour.

  “I have no further questions, Your Honor,” the DA said.

  Judge Roth had no choice but to turn the officer over to the defense attorney for cross-examination.

  “All right, you may cross-examine.” Then after a second, Roth added, “Keep it pithy, counsel.”

  Roth’s admonition didn’t do any good. The attorney’s cross-examination was just as bad as his mindless objecting to the DA’s questions. Ordinarily, sitting through fingernail-scraping cross-examination of a witness would be hard to take. But with Roth anticipating Ben’s call, it was excruciating.

  After a few minutes, an impatient Roth said, “You’ve gone over that issue many times. Try moving on to something else.”

  “But Your Honor,” the attorney protested. “If I may, I need to follow through—”

  “I think you’ve exhausted the subject,” Roth said in a stern voice. “Get into something more relevant.”

  Roth noticed his bailiff looking at him, rolling his eyes. Normally, Roth didn’t want the jury to see him react to anything Jon did that commented on an attorney or the evidence, but this time, he smiled, shaking his head.

  The defense attorney grudgingly switched to a different subject. “I want to go over what you were doing when the undercover officer was inside.”

  “Okay,” the narcotics officer said.

  “Was he wired?”

  “Yes. He was fitted with a listening device. It transmitted what he and the defendant were saying.”

  “Did you put that in your report?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I don’t see it. Can you point it out to me?”

  “Did you look on page three of the supplement?”

  “The supplement?”

  “Yes. It’s there.”

  “Just a second,” Judge Roth said, turning toward Judy, who was sliding a note to him.

  “That man you said would be calling you,” she whispered. “He’s on the line.”

  “Sorry, gentlemen, I have an urgent phone call.”

  Roth dashed to his chambers and picked up the phone.

  “You called it,” Ben said.

  “What did Sands say?”

  “The guy who called him used a voice changer.”

  “That’s what I was hoping for.”

  “He said he tried to tell me that when I first questioned him, but I wouldn’t listen. That’s bullshit.”

  “Whatever. It doesn’t matter now.”

  “I asked him if he thought that was weird. He said he did, but since they were paying him a thousand dollars per day, he didn’t give a shit.”

  “Hmm, that is a lot of money.”

  Ben didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then: “If the guy who called Sands used a voice changer, that means the guy who’s calling you is the same guy who called him.”

  “Yes, but if you stop there, you’ll leave an important inference on the table.”

  “Okay, you’re the judge.”

  “It points to the caller’s actual identity.”

  “Okay…”

  “Why would the guy who called Sands think he had to disguise his voice? Sands wasn’t gonna go the cops. He was a crook himself.”

  “The most obvious reason is that if he didn’t, Sands would know who he was.”

  “Exactly. So, whose voice would Sands recognize?”

  “Miller’s.”

  “It’s gotta be him. He’s the guy who called Sands and is calling us.”

  “Yeah, they capered together.”

  “Right. And because of that, Miller trusted him. Wanted him to be the lookout. It was a good choice. Look at how long Sands held out before he gave up the phone number.”

  “And that was only after we did a ‘Goldman.’”

  “But Sands wasn’t in on the kidnapping. So, Miller didn’t want him to know who he was. He wanted to have a wall between him and Sands. Insulate himself.”

  “Yeah, but Ash’s secretary said there were three guys. How come he didn’t use one of them for the stakeout and not Sands?”

  “I don’t know.” Al paused for a moment. “But it’s probably for what happened after the kidnapping. We know that Miller stays home at night. So, he needed at least two guys to rotate, guarding Ash during the night.”

  “Okay, that follows.”

  “When you put everything together, the circumstantial evidence points to the paving company. That’s where they’re holding Ash.”

  “So, whaddaya thinking? Go in there and break down that inner door?”

  “No. That could get Ash killed, or one of us.” Al paused a few moments, thinking. “And don’t forget, we’re not absolutely positive they’re holding Ash there.”

  “What about staking it out, get more intel?”

  “That’s an idea, but a lot of man-hours and it could take too much time.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “We should be able to confirm our analysis by examining the things we already know. There’s gotta be something we haven’t factored in.”

  “Yeah, but what?”

  Al took a breath as he ran through the facts surrounding the Toyota, All States, Miller, and Sands. His instinct told him there had to be a link in there somewhere. Something he’d overlooked that would tie it all up.

  But what was it?

  What am I skipping over?

  Then, after a few seconds he said, “Wait a minute. I think I got something.”

  Ben waited.

  “When you talked to Sands, he told you he was directed to a street in Santa Ana to pick up the Toyota.”

  “Yeah, they told him to go there to get it.”

  “Which street?”

  “Not sure. I know he said the cross street was Cabot. The other one…”

  “Was it Boyd?”

  “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  “That’s the street Lopez followed Miller to. All States Paving.”

  “It’s all coming together.”

  “It’s either a lot of coincidences or a string of strong circumstantial evidence of guilt. I choose guilt. Now I can start working on a plan to take those assholes out and rescue Ash.”

  “Any ideas yet?
”

  “I think I got something. I’ve been mulling over a three-part plan. If I go with it, it’ll involve all the old Detroit boys. And when I say all the Detroit boys, I’m including myself.”

  “It’ll be good to see you in action again.” Then, after pausing, Ben asked, “More than a rescue mission?”

  “Jake will be in on it. You figure it out.”

  29

  ALTHOUGH ROTH WANTED to spend more time working on his plan to free Asher, he and Jake had to take care of Ward’s strong-arm job first.

  So, the next day, they got up early and started getting ready to leave for Tucson. Al went into the kitchen and made breakfast. Fried eggs, roasted red potatoes, and ham. He knew Jake loved to have bagels with his eggs, so he’d bought some the night before.

  “I wish we could stick around and get some shit going on Ash,” Jake said, taking a bite of his bagel.

  “Not more than me. But it’s something we have to do, and the sooner the better.”

  “I think we’ll be okay,” Jake assured him. “One day won’t matter.”

  After eating and downing their coffees, they put away the dishes and stacked their bags by the kitchen door.

  Hearing them talking, Linda, still in her white bathrobe, came downstairs to the kitchen.

  “I didn’t know you were leaving this morning,” she said.

  “It’s sort of a last-minute thing.”

  “Uh-huh. Where are you going?”

  Smiling, Al said, “I’m sorry, Linda, but I can’t say what we’re doing.”

  “Al, that doesn’t make any sense. Not going into court, going on a trip… I’m your wife, you need to tell me.”

  “Remember when we got married? I said there’d be some things I needed to keep to myself.”

  “I thought after we’d been married for a while, you’d trust me.” She glanced at Jake, then at Al.

  She thinks with Jake here she can shame me into it.

  “Come on, honey,” he said. “I never said anything like that. Besides, legally, it’s best if you don’t know anything about it.”

  “Oh, that makes me feel better. Now I can relax,” Linda said, chuckling.

  “It’s just a precaution.”

  “I think you’re using that ‘legal’ excuse to hide what you’re doing.”

  “If I weren’t a lawyer, I wouldn’t know the legal consequences that you’d face. That’s why I’m keeping it to myself.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “All right, keep it to yourself.”

  Hugging her, Al said, “Honey…” Then in his Ricardo Montalbán voice, he said, “Linda, this is something that your ears should not hear.”

  She pulled back. Then she glanced at Jake, who turned away when he saw her looking at him.

  “Does this have anything to do with my dad?”

  “No, it’s nothing compared to that,” Al answered. “It’s actually a pretty insignificant thing.”

  Linda stared at him.

  “All I can tell you is that it’s about Ziggy. That’s all I can say about it.”

  “For him? I guess it’s okay.” A pause. “When are you coming back?”

  “Tomorrow. In the morning, I hope.”

  “That’s not too bad,” Linda said, smiling.

  “Honest, Linda,” Jake said, “it’s not that big of a deal. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Hmm.” Then, after pausing, Linda said, “Please be careful. Remember what happened to my dad. Something bad can happen to anyone.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen,” Al said, picking up his suitcase.

  Not to us, anyway.

  “Bye, Linda,” Jake said, smiling. “I’ll take good care of him.”

  Three hours later, they landed at Tucson International Airport. Lou Ziegler had arranged for a rental car at Hertz, so they headed over there. Jake picked out a Lincoln and they drove to the Marriott Starr Pass Resort.

  Arriving there, Al said, “Nice place.”

  “Lou set this up too.”

  After checking in, Al said, “I’ll meet you in the bar in a few minutes.”

  Then they went to their rooms, dropped off their bags, and met downstairs.

  Looking around the bar, Jake said, “I wonder if any of these broads are hookers?”

  “If they’re sitting alone and looking sexy, you can tell by smiling at them. Go ahead, try it,” Al teased him. He knew Jake would never approach a woman in a bar. In the past, Al would have done it for him, but those days were over.

  “I’m not doing that bullshit. I’ll talk to one of the bellboys.”

  Al ordered Scotches. Then he asked, “So what’s your game plan?”

  “First, we stake out his house. Then follow him. See if he’s heading to Manny’s. If it looks like he is, we’ll break the tail, head over there, get there first.”

  “What are you gonna say to him?”

  “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse,” Jake said smiling.

  “Isn’t that copyrighted?”

  “I was saying that before the movie.”

  “What if he doesn’t have a horse?”

  “He has fingers and kneecaps.”

  Later, when Jake was getting ready to order more Scotches, Al said, “Don’t you think one’s enough?”

  “One more won’t have any effect on me. But okay, no more.”

  Turning around, Al scanned the bar. He noticed more people had come in, including some single women.

  “Look at that one,” Al said, nodding at a table near the center of the bar.

  “Things are looking up,” Jake said with a smile.

  After a few minutes, Al leaned in and whispered, “I saw that dark-haired one stare at you.”

  “Don’t start with that shit.”

  “You’re so sensitive.”

  “You know, one of these days, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

  Scoffing, Al said, “You’re all talk.”

  “Talking? That’s what you’re all about. You built your life around it.”

  “Okay, enough of this crap. Let’s talk about something important.” Al paused as he got Jake’s attention. “After we take care of business, you have any ideas for dinner?”

  “I could go for our usual. Scotches, steaks, beers, then cheesecake or a sundae.”

  “I checked the magazine in the room. There’s a Fleming’s Steakhouse out here.”

  “Just like Newport Beach. Let’s go there after we take care of business.”

  30

  LATE IN THE AFTERNOON, they staked out Robert’s house. He lived in a duplex one block away from a strip mall.

  Nearly an hour after they arrived, they saw him come home. Now another waiting period began.

  After about a half hour, Robert came out and got into his white BMW 325i convertible.

  They tailed him as drove in the direction of Manny’s. When they were satisfied he was going there, they sped up and arrived there first.

  Pulling into the parking lot, Al said, “So this is it?”

  “He goes here almost every night.”

  It was a reddish, barn-looking structure. Trash was scattered in the parking lot close to the rear of the building.

  “Looks like a shithole,” Al groaned.

  “So what?”

  “I’m just saying.”

  Jake told Al to park in a space near the front door. “When I come after him, it’ll look like I’m coming from inside.”

  “Oh, so he’ll think you’re one of—”

  “Don’t go there,” Jake said, shooting him a mock scowl.

  Shrugging, Al said, “Jeez, relax.”

  After a few minutes, Robert came rolling in. Parked his BMW on the side of the building and went inside.

  Jake got out of their rental car and unscrewed the rear license plate. Threw it on the back seat, then got back in.

  Nodding in the direction of the parking lot, Jake said, “I’ll nail him over there. When he gets close to his car.”

  �
��What if he yells out?”

  “He won’t have a chance. And if he does, what are they gonna do?”

  “Good point. And especially after you took the plate off.”

  “You just gotta know how to do it,” Jake said, beaming.

  “And you’re the expert. How many times you done shit like this?”

  “Hundreds.”

  Jake pulled out a cigarette. Keeping his attention on the door, he lit it. Al had stopped smoking years ago, but the smoke didn’t bother him.

  They sat quietly, listening to the radio. Al almost nodded off a few times. “Maybe I should’ve brought some coffee.”

  “You don’t get any exercise on your job. All you do is sit in a big fuckin’ chair and talk all day.”

  “That’s right. And if I knew what I was doing, it’d be a lot easier.”

  Jake slumped back into his seat. For the next few minutes, they sat in silence, waiting and watching. Then, totally out of the blue, Jake said, “You remember Max Elliott?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He died doing a stickup of a liquor store in Toledo.”

  “Jeez, I didn’t know he was into robbery. What a shame.”

  “I remember when he was our quarterback.”

  “Pretty good one too.”

  About an hour later, Robert came out, but he wasn’t alone. He was talking to another guy.

  “Looks like you have competition,” Al said with a straight face.

  Ignoring him, Jake muttered, “Shit.”

  Al didn’t think there’d be a problem. “They’re just saying goodbye or setting something up.”

  After a few seconds, Robert shook hands with the other guy and started heading over to his car. The other guy went back inside.

  Jake popped the door handle and eased his 6’3” frame out of the car. To avoid making any noise, when he shut the door, he didn’t close it all the way. Then he made his way over to Robert.

  “Hey, Robert,” Jake called out. “Wait up a minute.”

  Robert stopped, turned toward Jake. “What is it?”

  Jake kept coming, stooping his shoulders a bit.

  As Jake came closer, Robert asked, “Do I know you?”

  “It’s me. Hang on a second.”