by Ted Wood
Melody’s car was in the driveway when I arrived and I pulled in behind it. As soon as I switched off the motor the house door opened and Melody ran out to meet me. She looked anxious and I said, “Hi. It went well today.”
She wasn’t listening. “Reid,” she blurted, “somebody’s kidnapped Angela.”
“Kidnapped?”
She was weeping but she had her voice under control. “A man just called. He said something like we’ve got your daughter. Tell Bennett to wait for our call. Don’t call the police or your kid’s gonna be sorry.”
“Come inside.” I took her by the arm, clucking at Sam to follow me, and led her bade into the house. Ben was at the door. He looked at me, eyes wide. “Shut the door,” I told him, then asked Melody, “When did he call?”
“About ten minutes ago. I phoned the police station to see if you were there but they said you’d gone. Reid, what axe we going to do?” She was trembling and I put my arm around her shoulders.
“I’ll take care of it. By the sound of it, they want me gone, whoever they are. Tell me, when did you see Angie last?”
“This morning when she went to school. She wasn’t home when I got back from the library but she usually stays a while with her friend Jennie until six. They do their homework together. So I didn’t worry until the phone went.”
“How did the man sound? Was he a local, would you say?”
I had led her to the armchair and she sat down, perching on the edge of it as I squatted in front of her. She was taut with fear, every muscle frozen rigid, but she had stopped crying and was thinking hard. “No. He sounded like he could have been from New York or someplace,” she said. “You know, the kind of whine in the nose.”
She’d heard a white voice, I registered. “Okay, now tell me exactly what he said.” I held both her hands and she looked at me sightlessly as she tried to remember.
“He said, ‘Hi. Is Angela still not home?’ and I was worried right away and asked him who he was. Then he said, ‘No, she’s not, because she’s here with me. Now just listen. We don’t want to hurt the kid. We want to talk to Bennett. Tell him to wait for our call, and don’t call the police or your kid’s gonna be sorry.’ Then he hung up.”
I patted her hand and stood up. “Somebody wants me out of town. They’re not going to hurt Angela. I’ll talk to the guy and then when he tells me what he wants, I’ll do it. Try not to worry.” I made sure I sounded calm but my mind was racing, wondering which of the people I’d spoken to that day had passed the news on to the big boys.
Ben had been listening to every word and he knelt down beside his mother. “I’ll kill the guy,” he said.
I patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll get your chance. I’ll find him and you can punch his lights out. But first we’ve got to get Angie back. If the phone goes, let me answer it. Right now, your mom would like a cup of coffee.”
Melody raised her head to protest but I winked at her and she said, “Yes, please, Ben. And get one for Reid as well.”
“No problem,” he said automatically, then added, “I mean it, Mom,” and went into the kitchen.
I crouched beside her again. “Good thinking. It’ll keep him busy for a minute or two. Tell me, do you want me to stop working for Doug?”
“I want Angela back safe, that’s all. Nothing else matters,” she whispered.
“I understand. Now tell me. Does Doug have a gun in the house?”
She looked at me very straight. “Yes. He didn’t think I knew, but I found it in the basement. I went into his toolbox for a hammer to hang a picture and I saw it there.”
“Go and get it.” I straightened up and she stood and walked out to the kitchen and downstairs. A minute later she was back with a dish towel over something in her hand.
I took it from her and flipped the towel back. Inside was a standard police Smith and Wesson .38 revolver. I flipped the chamber open and saw it was loaded. I tipped the shells out and checked. They were standard police rounds. “That’s not his issue gun. They took that when they arrested him. That’s his backup.”
It was big for a backup gun. A lot of New York cops carry a second weapon, but it’s usually smaller, a .25 automatic usually, something they can holster in their sock in case somebody takes their artillery off them. “That’s the one he carried in New York,” Melody explained. “But here he carried the issue gun.”
“Have you ever used one?”
She was shocked. “Of course not.”
“But you know how? Doug showed you, I’m sure.” I’d instructed my own wife, despite her not wanting to know.
“Point and pull,” she said soberly. “If you’re expecting trouble, pull the hammer back first but it’s double action. Doug told me.”
“Pretty soon that guy’s going to call again. When he does, I’ll be going out. I’ll leave Sam on guard here but I want you and Ben to go upstairs and wait. Take this with you. Okay?”
“You think they’re going to call?”
“I’m sure of it. Doug figured there was a mob involvement in his work. That’s why he wouldn’t share it with you. And those are the guys who want me out of here. I’ll see them and they’ll let Angie go.”
“What if they’re hurting her?” I could see in her eyes what she meant but I didn’t let my own fears show. “They won’t touch her, believe me.”
She closed her eyes. Her lips were moving and I lip-read her prayer. Then the phone rang. I picked it up. “Hello, this is Reid Bennett.”
Melody was on her feet beside me, trying to listen. I concentrated on the man’s voice when he spoke. “Just the guy I want to talk to.”
“I’m listening.” Melody was right, I judged. The voice had the raw edges of New York in its tone, or maybe New Jersey, somewhere around the metropolitan area. I couldn’t pinpoint it closer.
“We hear tell you’re askin’ a lot of questions.” Not “I,” but “we.” This was not the main man, this was some foot soldier.
“Doug Ford’s a friend of mine. Do you have his daughter there?”
“The kid’s fine. But we want you should go home, back to the Eskimos. Am I making myself clear?”
“Release the girl and I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Okay. Now you’re bein’ smart. Come down to the town square an’ park in front of the library. The spade lady knows where it is.” He was baiting me but I didn’t rise.
“Then what?”
“Then we’ll have a little talk an’ after that you drive the kid home an’ them go home yourself. You got me?”
“When?”
“Right away. An’ don’t bring the dog with you.” It came out “dawg.” New York, no doubts left.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Good. An’ don’t waste time calling the cops. These hayseeds’ll be bumping into one another. If we see any of them, the kid dies. Got that?”
“Got it.”
He hung up and I did the same, very slowly. Melody was holding my arm. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. He’s going to hand her over to me. He wants to talk to me first, outside the library.”
“I’ll come with you.” She was heading for her coat but I stopped her, taking her arm.
“No. He wants me there on my own. I’ll set Sam to watch the house. You go upstairs with Ben like I said.”
She bit her lip and tears came into her eyes. “Oh God, Reid. Take care of Angie.”
“They’re not going to hurt her. But I’m going. You and Ben go upstairs now. Don’t come down until I get back with Angie.”
Ben said, “I want to come. You promised.”
“You’ll get a chance to clobber him, but not tonight. First we get Angie. Do as your mom says. Your dad would want you to.”
His eyes widened when he saw the gun in her hand and he stood back as she got up and went upstairs, slowly. He followed her and she paused halfway up to speak to me. “Get my Angie back, Reid.”
“I promise.” I waited until s
he was out of sight, then led Sam all around the downstairs, including the basement, and told him “Guard.” It’s his command to attack silently and pin an intruder, on the ground usually, after he’s knocked him down.
I turned off all the downstairs lights and went out to my car. There was very little traffic on the streets and I drove down to the main square in under five minutes. There were a few pedestrians on the street, stopping to look in the windows of the stores which were all closed. But I didn’t see Angie or any parked cars with people in them. I left the car running and got out, pretending to be cleaning the windshield with a handful of snow from the mound along the edge of the sidewalk. A minute or so later a Lincoln slid into a parking spot opposite me. It had tinted windows and I couldn’t see who was inside.
I watched as the passenger door opened and a man got out. He was short, wearing a city topcoat and a fedora. He had his hands in his pockets and he strolled across to me, elaborately casual.
I took a few steps toward him and he took one hand out of his pocket and held it up. “Stay there. We can’t talk in the middle of all this traffic,” he said, and laughed at his own joke.
I backed to my car and he came up to me. Latin, bad skin, thirty-fiveish, five-six, around one-sixty pounds, I registered. I took a good look at his face.
“Don’ bother tryin’ a remember me,” he said. “After tonight you’re outa here.”
“Where’s the little girl?”
“In the car with my associates,” he said.
“Turn her loose, then we talk.”
“We talk first. Then she walks, ’kay?”
“What do you want to talk about?”
He hawked and spat. “We unnerstand you been askin’ a lot of dumbass questions. That makes some people I know kind of mad.”
“Why’s that? I’m a friend of the family. What are friends for?”
He sighed. He was milking his moment, I thought. He’d seen too many movies. He took his hands out of his pockets and spread his arms. “This is a friendly talk we’re havin’ here. This ain’t your beef. Go home.”
“Or what?”
“Or instead of havin’ any more friendly talks we take the kid and she doesn’t come back.”
“I get the message. Her mother wants her back. That’s all. I’ll be out of town as soon as you deliver the girl.”
“Good.” He tapped me on the chest. “Like it won’t do no good getting p’lice protection. All’s they’ll do is drive by the house a few times. We’ll pick the kids up, both of ’em. And next time it’s no more mister niceguy.”
“You’ve made your point. I’m out of here as soon as I get the girl.”
“Smart.” He spat again. “I like that.”
He turned and nodded at the car and the rear door opened. Angela got out. She was dressed in a pink parka and toque, still carrying her schoolbooks. She ran across the street to me and I put my arm around her. The guy took his right hand out of his pocket and wagged his forefinger at me. “Remember now. Next time’s for keeps.”
He turned his back and strolled away to his car. I wanted to follow and kick him right up in the air but that wouldn’t have solved anything. Instead I took Angie’s hand. “Are you all right?”
“I’m scared,” she said in a very small voice.
“Did they hurt you?”
“No. They were okay. They gave me a chocolate bar but I didn’t eat it.”
I put her in the car, then got in as the car opposite pulled away, its lights out. I couldn’t have read the license plate anyway from where I was but they were professionals in their own way. “Tell me what happened,” I said, putting my car into gear.
“I was just coming out of Jennie’s house and this car came up and a man asked me if I knew where the library was. I did like Dad told us. I stayed away from the car but the man said he couldn’t hear me. He got out, with his hand over his ear, and I figured he was deaf. So I started saying it again and he grabbed me. I dropped my books but he put me in the back seat and another man held me while the first one picked up my books.”
“Nobody touched you other than that?”
“No.” She shook her head, a tense little negative that showed how frightened she had been.
“You were very brave. Your dad’ll be proud of you,” I said and concentrated on my driving.
“Why did they do it?” she asked. “Dad said men take girls in their cars sometimes and do things to them, you know. But they didn’t.”
“They wanted to scare me,” I said. “And they did. But don’t worry, it’s all over now.”
She said nothing else and I drove to the house in silence, wondering what to do next.
The hall light was on when I got there and I ran up the drive and opened the door. Melody was standing on the stairs. Sam was standing on the bottom step, looking at her unmovingly. “Easy, boy. Here,” I called and he broke off eye contact and came over to me. Melody ran down the stairs and put both arms around her daughter. She still had the gun in her hand and I took it from her. “She’s okay. Nothing happened,” I said.
“I’m fine, Mom. They didn’t do anything, ’cept put me in the car,” Angie said, and then the two of them wept.
Ben was standing a few feet away. “I’ll kill them,” he said. “I’ll take Dad’s gun an’ blow ’em away.”
I put my arm around him. “No need, old huddy. She’s all right. Now go pack a bag. You three are going on a trip.”
FOUR
Melody fussed over Angie until she was certain the girl was fine, while I sent out for pizza for supper. Then, when she was settling down to normal again, I set out to convince her that she had to leave town and hide for a while.
It was a tough sell. The kidnapping had achieved its objective. She was scared and wanted to be sure we carried out the letter of my promise. She wanted me to leave town. I didn’t bully her but I pointed out that if Doug got off, as I figured he might, then the same guys would be using the same tactics on him again. The only way to beat them was to go after them, and burn them out so they couldn’t come back again and cause trouble.
I wasn’t sure how that could be done, but it had to be tried, and that meant I had to do the burning. And before that could happen, she and the kids had to disappear for a while. She thought about it without talking while we drank coffee. And at last she agreed.
We made the plan in private, where the kids couldn’t hear and blow security. I asked her if she had a choice of places to go and she did. Her sister lived in Chicago and Doug’s mother, who had been widowed and remarried, was living in South Carolina. None of the neighbors knew the name of either family, so there could be no follow-up. She agreed with me that double protection would be best, so she called the head of the library board and told him she had a family emergency in Chicago. With Doug out of circulation, she was taking the children with her for a few days.
That was part one of the plan. Part two, which would be revealed to the children later, was that they would switch planes in New York and head south to Doug’s mother. Organized crime is not well enough organized to have its tentacles down into rural Dixie and she would be safe there while I finished what I had to do.
Angie was excited about getting away so that was fine. Ben was the only one to show any reluctance. With fourteen-year-old machismo he wanted to stay where he was and fight. But he listened to me and agreed finally. So by nine o’clock the neighbors had been told the Chicago story and I was driving the family to the airport in Burlington, me with Doug’s .38 in the right-hand pocket of my parka.
I sat with them until they were called through security to board their flight. Melody gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and said, “Explain to Doug. Don’t let him think we’re running out on him.”
“No fears,” I said and squeezed her hand. “Have a holiday, if you can. I’m going to do some heavy-duty digging. Doug’s innocent and what happened tonight proves it. Now I just have to make it stick.”
I waited in the concourse until t
heir flight left for New York, then phoned home and talked to Fred for half an hour, giving her a quick rundown of what was happening, but leaving out the bit about Angie’s being abducted. With a brand-new daughter of our own, I knew she would take that to heart too much. When I hung up I made a second call, to Peter Horn, the special constable I had left in charge at Murphy’s Harbour. He’s Ojibway—a Native North American—they don’t call themselves Indians anymore. He’s wise and tough. I explained what I wanted done and he told me he’d get some of his buddies on it right away.
The call put fresh heart into me and afterward I went back out to the car and headed for Chambers, the Fords’ hometown. But I’m a man of my word, even when I’m dealing with criminals, so I didn’t go back to town. Instead I stopped ten miles out at a crummy motel and checked in under the name Collins. From the look of the place they’d had their quota of John Smiths registered there over the years.
I didn’t mention Sam but it was a cold night and I wanted security, so I brought him in to sleep beside the bed. Then I took a slow hour or so going over all the things I’d learned that day and putting together a case in my mind. It wasn’t until midnight that I realized I hadn’t phoned Irv Goodman in Toronto. Never mind, I thought, I would speak to him the next morning. It was Saturday and he would be at home.
Except for traffic noise the night passed peacefully and I was up at seven to let Sam out and get ready for the day. After I’d showered I took Sam and headed out to find a restaurant. There was a simple country place on the highway and I had a big breakfast with enough cholesterol to last a week and then drove into town.
It was nine o’clock and the main square was lined with cars, most of them with ski racks on the roof. I found a spot and left the window down while I went in to visit Doug.
There was a different official on duty this morning, a young woman who seemed to have some sympathy for Doug as a member of a minority group. She told me I could have fifteen minutes with him and this time there was a different guard, a bored, older man who lounged against the wall and didn’t act officious.