The Kidnappers
Page 11
“We’d prefer that you sit here, quietly, for a short time,” he told us.
He turned and left us there, consulting in low voices with the other officers in the apartment. Two men were attempting repair of the door, putting it back in place, even though it could no longer be locked.
“They’re waiting for Studen to come back,” Willie said in a low tone. “They don’t want to tie up the elevator getting us out of here. Or the phone, in case he calls.”
“Yeah. Maybe they’ll get the money back.”
“I hope so. Otherwise my dad’s never going to let me forget it,” Willie muttered. “Hey, these guys are all regular police, aren’t they? Don’t they usually call in the FBI for a kidnapping?”
“Yeah. Usually. I guess we’ll find out, sooner or later.” I wanted to go home. I was proud of Sophie, and even Mark, for noticing my light signals. And the people I’d thought were ignoring them had not only noticed but they’d called the authorities. Thank you, God, I thought.
There was a sudden, intense silence around us, and Willie and I fell silent, too, without anybody telling us to. A moment later we heard a key in the lock.
Studen must have realized immediately that something was wrong. We heard his startled exclamation, watched the officers get the door out of the way and pour into the hallway, heard the sounds of a struggle as Studen tried for the elevator.
Detective O’Hara seemed to be in charge, but he wasn’t at all excited. I guess he’d already given orders for more officers to be waiting down in the lobby in case Studen and the ransom escaped the men waiting for him here or in the alley.
And that was the end of it. We were free, and neither Willie nor I had a scratch except what we got squeezing out of that bedroom past a broken door.
Nobody was mad at me. Sophie hugged me, and even Mark slapped me on the shoulder the way he did with his buddies.
When Sophie and Mark went to tell Father about the signal lights, they’d both been positive I was responsible for them. Father called the police immediately, then explained to Mom that something urgent had come up. He asked her to fill in for him at the party until he’d taken care of it. She was exasperated with business that had to be taken care of on a Saturday night, but so busy herself she didn’t realize at the time that there was something seriously wrong. So the party wasn’t ruined after all, though when I got home and we told her, she broke down and cried.
When that was explained to the guests, they thought it was the most excitingly unique party they’d ever attended. When everything appeared in the papers and on TV, they were gratified to have been involved. Even if they didn’t know about it until it was all over.
Mr. Groves got the ransom money back. Ernie and Studen and Tedesco eventually had a trial that was in all the papers and on TV. Then they went to jail for quite a long time. Mr. Zoulas was appalled that the conspirators had used his apartment for a headquarters, and of course he had to hire a new secretary.
Mrs. Civen was equally appalled that her chauffeur had used her car and been a party to a kidnapping. The insignia on the doors of her New Yorker had been a gift from her son, who had it made especially for her to look like a royal emblem. That was because her kids referred to as “The Queen,” and called her “Your Highness,” in fun.
Willie thought we should take a few days off from school the next week to recover from our ordeal, and I’d have been willing. But none of our parents agreed, so we were back in St. Bart’s on Monday.
Before our first class I came up behind Willie in the hallway. He was telling a bunch of kids about being kidnapped, gesturing vigorously with his hands. He flipped one of them backward, quite hard, and smacked me in the nose.
It hurt. I put up a hand toward the pain, and brought it away bloody.
Willie spun around and stared at me in dismay. “Oh, no! Not again!” he cried.
My eyes were watering from the pain. I hoped none of the guys thought I was crying.
“Boys.” The stern voice was Mr. Giacomo’s. “You know there are rules against fighting. I’ll see you both in my office after school.”
“We weren’t fighting,” Willie said hastily. “It was an accident. Bishop just got in my way. You know how clumsy he is, sir.”
“It’s true,” Pink said. “They weren’t fighting, sir.”
Mr. Giacomo scrutinized our faces. “You can explain it to me after school,” he said, and went on down the hall.
I spoke in a muffled way through the hand over my nose.
“You’re a natural born troublemaker, Groves,” I told Willie.
For a moment there was tension in the circle of boys surrounding us. Then Willie said in resignation, “Ain’t it the truth.”
Everybody exploded in relieved laughter, and Willie threw an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, Bishop, let’s find a wet paper towel before you bleed all over your science book.”
And that was the only time in my life that I got involved in a kidnapping, and the last time I had a bloody nose.
WILLO DAVIS ROBERTS wrote many mystery and suspense novels for children during her long and illustrious career, including The Girl with the Silver Eyes, The View from the Cherry Tree, Twisted Summer, Megan’s Island, Baby-Sitting Is a Dangerous Job, Hostage, Scared Stiff, and The Kidnappers. Three of her children’s books won Edgar® Awards, while others received great reviews and accolades, including the Sunshine State Young Reader Award, the California Young Reader Medal, and the Georgia Children’s Book Award.
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DON’T MISS THESE OTHER WILLO DAVIS ROBERTS MYSTERIES:
Surviving Summer Vacation
The View from the Cherry Tree
Baby-Sitting Is a Dangerous Job
Megan’s Island
Hostage
Scared Stiff
The Pet-Sitting Peril
What Could Go Wrong?
Secrets at Hidden Valley
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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This Aladdin hardcover edition January 2016
Text copyright © 1998 by Willo Davis Roberts
Jacket illustration copyright © 2016 by Jessica Handelman
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Jacket designed by Jessica Handelman
Interior designed by Mike Rosamilia
The text of this book was set in New Century Schoolbook.
Library of Con
gress Control Number 2015954224
ISBN 978-1-4814-4905-2 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4814-4904-5 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4814-4906-9 (eBook)