The Kidnapper (17 page)

“You shot him in cold blood.”

“I didn’t shoot him. I hit him over the head. He’s in the back seat, under the blanket. And now you and I are going to go out and get rid of him.”

“Oh, no, I can’t!”

“What’s the matter, you cracking up on me, too?”

She sort of gasped and I said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. But you’ve got to help, this time. I want to ditch the car and Specs both. I’ll drive him in his car and dump them. You follow me, and when I’m finished I’ll ride back with you. Understand?”

She shook her head.

“Sit down and I’ll explain it to you. Here’s what I got in mind. Coming back from getting the ransom money the other night, I noticed this place. It’s around the lake, past the bluff. There’s a little side road runs right down to the edge of the water, with maybe a twenty-foot drop. Nothing but a rail fence there, an old one. What I’ll do is load Specs into the car, run it to the edge, then jump out and let her crash. Won’t be anybody around there this time of night, and chances are nobody’ll find the wreck for a day or so. When they do, they’ve got their kidnapper. And just to make sure, I’m going to take that rubber block printing set along and leave it in the glove compartment. I hate to say it, but this may turn out to be a good thing after all.”

“Steve, that’s awful!”

“It’s our best bet.”

“Anyway, we won’t have to come back here again.”

“Of course we will. That’s the whole point of the thing—we got to stay here until they find the car and his body. Then they’ll figure he’s the one they were looking for, and the heat goes off. All they’ll be after is where he hid the money. Then we can leave anytime we like—with the whole two hundred grand.” I gave her a grin. “Sweetheart, our problems are solved.”

“It still sounds risky.”

“Sure, it’s risky. Everything’s risky. But this is the last step. And I’ll tell you what to do. You follow maybe a half a mile behind me, no closer. When I turn off, you wait at the head of the road, with the lights out. Then, if you see or hear anyone, turn on the lights. That’s my signal to duck out through the woods. And it’s your signal to go like hell.”

“And leave you behind?”

“You heard me. You’ll have the dough in the car. Don’t wait for me, just run for it and get back here without being followed. I can take care of myself. Don’t worry—I’ll make it. Nothin’s keeping me separated from you.”

Or from that two hundred grand, either, but I didn’t tell her that. Instead, I said, “That’s only in case of emergencies, anyway. Chances are a hundred to one we won’t have any trouble. I’ll look over the lay of the land first to make plenty sure.”

“All right, Steve.”

“You still love me?”

“You know I do.”

“Come on, then, let’s get started. Wait, let me go out there first. You bring the money.”

I wanted to get out there ahead of her, so as I could transfer Specs to his old car without Mary seeing him. I’d bashed his head in pretty bad, and he was nothing to look at. The cops would figure he got it banged in the car going down, or on the rocks sticking out of the water.

Putting him into the seat, I was careful to keep a blanket around him. I didn’t want to get all messed up. But I managed all right.

Then she came out, we locked the carton with the money in the trunk of the Olds, and started out.

I drove slow and kept my eyes open. This was one time for sure when I wouldn’t take any chances. I began to sweat when I got close to the crossroads, but there was nobody in sight. Couple cars parked outside the tavern, but no cops.

She trailed me a good half mile. I turned off, waiting until she could see me, and hit the other road that wound in around the side of the lake. It was dark and quiet. Just a piece of the moon was out. For a while we were passing cottages regular, with lights in the windows. Then they thinned out and the road went through woods. Nobody built around here because of the bluff on this side; they couldn’t get down to the water.

I kept going, not doing more than twenty-five, and she came along slow behind me. Then I saw the little cutoff I wanted. It ran back through the trees to the water for maybe a block and a half, no more than that. And it was clear. I could see the fence at the edge.

I stopped right where I’d turned off and waited for her to come up behind me. Then I got out and walked over.

“Drive back about a quarter mile,” I told her. “Keep your motor running, but no lights, remember? I’m going up and look at that fence, see if this deal can be rigged to fool them. If it’s okay, I’ll run the car in. Then, the minute you see me moving, come along. I’ll jump out and get back here to be picked up. Won’t take more than a minute after I’m started.”

“Yes, Steve.”

“Quit shivering, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Just do like I say. And if you see anyone coming behind you or ahead of you, get those lights on and take off. They won’t chase you—not if they hear the splash. They’ll stop to find out what’s happening. Go back to the cottage and wait. Just wait. I’ll be there.”

“No—”

I kissed her. “Run along, now. Here goes.”

I waited until she backed up, then walked down to the fence. I leaned against it; it was so rickety the boards almost came off in my hand. The water was black below, and I could see little white patches sticking up. Rocks. Everything was perfect.

Then I walked back to the car and put Specs up on the seat. I unwrapped the blanket, but tried to keep from looking at his face and head. This was the bad part; driving down the last little stretch of road with him.

But I had to do it. And like I told Mary, it would only take a minute.

I opened the door and got ready. No need to go too fast. I should have brought a whiskey bottle or something, so they’d think he’d been drinking. But they probably would figure that anyway. No, this was good enough as it was.

I started up. The motor sounded loud.

Then I realized why. There was more than one motor going. I could hear another—two others. They came from the road. I looked in the mirror. Sure enough, there was Mary coming in the Olds, with the lights on. And that meant—

That meant I couldn’t stop now. I jammed my foot down and the car rolled. I could see the fence coming up, and the car lurched, and for a minute Specs’ body wobbled and bounced against me.

Then we were hitting, and I jumped clear. There was a crash, and the whole works went over. A wave splashed up and soaked me from head to foot.

I looked back. The Olds was gone. But there was another car, and it was slowing down, getting ready to turn in. A light came sweeping along the road. In a second it would hit me.

But I didn’t wait for it. I looked down, took a deep breath, and dived into the water.

Chapter Twenty-One

I
almost thought I wasn’t going to make it. I didn’t dare come too close to the shore, and I had to go slow so as not to make any noise.

The two times I really was scared about was when boats came by, with outboard motors. I ducked underwater, then.

The boats were headed over to the shore where the car had gone down. They could hear the noise.

By the time I was far enough out so I figured it was safe to look back, I couldn’t see anything. There was a car parked there at the edge, and I saw two more come driving in, but that’s all. Nobody was shining any spotlights out over the water, so probably they hadn’t noticed me. That was good. It might still be all right, if they hadn’t. And if Mary got back safe.

But I was tired. I wasn’t used to swimming such a long ways, and the last half-mile across that lake was murder. I had to make sure of coming out below our cottage, too. It was tough going, there in the dark, but every stroke took me farther away from Specs and closer to the dough. That’s what I kept telling myself.

When I finally got in to where I could wade ashore, I just lay down in the shallows and panted until I got my breath back. I didn’t even have the strength to look up over the bank, see if the cottage lights were on.

I don’t know how long it took me to swim back, or how long I rested. At last I felt good enough to stand up and take a look. The lights were on, all right, and there wasn’t any cars in the driveway. She’d made it.

She’d made it, and I’d made it.

That should have made me feel good. But I was just numb. Today had taken everything out of me. It was all I could do to drag myself up the bank, into the back yard, up the steps.

The door was locked. I banged on it. She stuck her head around the corner of the shade, then opened up.

“Darling, you’re all right!”

“Sure. Nothing to it. They see you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Cops?”

“No. I couldn’t see very good, but it looked like a light-colored car to me.”

“State police have cream-colored sedans.” I brushed the wet hair out of my eyes. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. They’ll be there soon enough. Main thing is, if they didn’t see you or see me go over.”

“You swam all the way back?”

“Yeah. I’m beat.”

“Get out of those wet clothes. I’ll fix you a drink.”

“Good idea.”

I went into the john and stripped. I ran water in the tub, climbed in, lay down. Then I closed my eyes.

She was knocking on the door.

“What’s the matter, Steve? What’s happened?”

“Oh.” I opened my eyes. “I guess I fell asleep here in the tub. I’ll be right out.”

I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. Boy, was I a mess! It wasn’t that my face was still dirty or anything, and I’d shaved around noon—but my eyes were all red and sunk into my head. That’s what today had done to me. Today and all the other days of waiting and worrying. Well, it was over now.

I put on my robe and walked out to the kitchen. Mary had helped herself to a drink, and now she poured a second one to keep me company. I watched her put it down. She’d changed, too—she knew how to drink now. Except that I noticed her hands trembled a little, and she poured another shot right away for herself.

But what the hell. She deserved it. And so did I. I bought myself another drink, too. And another. The stuff was all right, but it didn’t work on me tonight. I was too tight, too nervous.

All of a sudden I noticed a funny thing.

We weren’t talking to each other.

Neither of us had said a word for over twenty minutes—we just sat there and tossed it down.

“Come on, honey, cheer up and say something. It’s all over now.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Sure. We made it. Like I said we would—you and me, together.” I lifted my glass.

She started to lift hers, then put it down again. “Let’s hear the news,” she said. “Come on.”

“What for?”

“You know what for.”

“Aw, forget it. Wait until morning.”

“I can’t wait. I want to know.”

She got up and went into the front room. It was a couple minutes past twelve, time for the broadcast, all right. The radio came on strong.

“—no liquor found in the car, although police believe that Schumann had been drinking. The printing set found in the glove compartment has been positively identified as the one used to print the ransom note sent to the Warren family. Borger is certain that he saw the lights of another automobile disappear down the road at the moment Schumann’s car went over the bluff, and it is possible that accomplices escaped with the ransom money, none of which was discovered at the scene of the accident. In a statement issued just half an hour ago, however, Chief of Police Hoskins has this to say, quote: I am confident that the kidnapping was the work of one man. On the basis of the evidence, and of the letter received today by the Warren Family from the missing maid, Mary Adams, it seems certain that the entire crime was conceived and executed by Leo Schumann, in spite of his references to a partner in telephone conversations with Mr. Warren. This department, however, has no intention of relaxing its vigilance until the ransom money is found and the whereabouts of Shirley Mae Warren is discovered. Unquote. The Chief refused to comment on the possibilities of the Warren child being alive at this time. And that’s the latest news on the kidnapping at this moment. Time now for the news bulletins, but first—friends, the next time you suffer from acid indigestion, why not try—”

I snapped it off.

“Satisfied?” I said.

“Oh, yes! That sounds good, doesn’t it, Steve? Except what this Borger said—he must be the one in the car behind me, don’t you think? But he told about the lights, and maybe they’ll check up.”

“What can they check up on? Not tire tracks—I’ll bet a hundred cars have come by that stretch since then. Besides, you heard what that fathead chief of police had to say. We’re safe. You willing to drink to that now?”

“I guess so.”

“Come on, then.” We went out to the kitchen and I filled our glasses. “Down the hatch.”

“You’re drinking a lot tonight, Steve.”

“I need it. Rough day.”

“Oh, I don’t care.” She got a smile on her face, at last. “It’s nice, the way it makes you feel. Only, remember the other time, when I drank too much and passed out? I don’t want you to pass out tonight, Steve.”

“You don’t, huh?”

“No.” She came over and sat in my lap. “I had a rough day, too. I need some more medicine, I guess.”

“Try this.” I poured her another.

“Thanks.” She gulped it down. “Only that’s not the kind I mean.”

She put her hand inside the robe. I slapped it away. “Cut it out,” I said. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Well, I am.”

“You.” I grunted. “You’re always in the mood.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“Sure.” Only I didn’t. Sitting there, with her on my lap, it suddenly came to me, and it was the truth. I didn’t want her. I’d had enough. She was too dumb, and too flighty; I’d had to watch her all week now, play up to her, keep her from messing up the details.

“Just think, Steve, here we are, just like you promised! The two of us, with all that money. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful.”

Like hell it was. I hadn’t gone through all this, taken all those crazy chances, even killed a man, sweated it out to get that dough, just to spend the rest of my life with her. Her and her goddam “medicine.” I was going into the big leagues now, with real money, real women. Not an overgrown kid you had to cuff around to get anything out of: a dumb female who, every time you looked at her, would remind you of all the grief and bad times you went through.