Kidnapping A Kidnapper

by Bill Sage

  Kidnapping A Kidnapper

  A Judge Roth Novel-Book 3

  Bill Sage

  © 2019 Deacon-Spratt & Lobart Press

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Craig White Illustration

  Author photo by Michael Sage Photography

  Formatting by Polgarus Studio

  For my wife, Judy, my only true love and constant companion.

  Table of Contents

  1

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  3

  4

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  8

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  1

  Newport Beach

  1988

  JUDGE ROTH RAN OUT of his chambers and into the courtroom. After apologizing, he abruptly continued every case on the calendar. Then he sprinted down the stairs, jumped into his car and sped home.

  When Roth pulled into the garage, Linda was waiting at the door leading to the kitchen. She’d left work as soon as she’d received the terrifying news.

  As he hugged her, he said, “We’ll get through this.”

  “I know, but I’m worried, Al. You know, how we’ll handle it.”

  “You mean the police?”

  “Yes.”

  Walking into the family room, Linda said, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “We’ll get your dad back. They’re not gonna do shit to him.”

  Sitting on the couch, Linda filled him in on what she knew. “He was in his office. They barged in, put a hood over his head and dragged him out.”

  She wondered how he was holding up.

  “Don’t worry,” Al said, comforting her. “He’s a tough guy.”

  Then after talking for another few minutes, Al stood up, took off his suit coat. “I’m gonna call Detroit.”

  “Jake…?”

  “Yeah.”

  He went into the den and called Jake Gertner, telling him what had happened. Jake didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then: “How’s she holding up?”

  “As you’d expect, taking it hard.”

  After pausing a moment, Jake asked, “Did you report it?”

  “No. She doesn’t want to take the chance. When they took Ash out of there, they told his secretary they’d kill him if Linda went to the police.”

  “Hmm…” After a moment, Jake said, “I know I don’t have to tell you this, but when it comes to kidnapping, going to the police is the best way of handling it.”

  “She won’t even discuss it. And believe me, I’ve tried.”

  “Al, you telling me that if you really wanted her to—”

  “She’s not gonna budge.”

  “I don’t know… Seems like you’re okay with it.”

  “Jake, we can report it anytime.”

  “Why do I think you’re up to something?”

  Laughing, Al said, “Okay, you’re right. I’m thinking of going on offense.”

  “Uh-huh…” Jake thought for a second. “And not going to the police gives you a freer hand. That’s what this is all about.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Even if we reported it and the kidnappers went to prison, so what? That’s not justice. Not after all the worry and misery Linda and her mother will have gone through. And Ash, held like a caged animal somewhere, wondering if he’ll be alive in the morning.”

  “I’m with you on that. And you know, no matter what you decide, I’ll be there with you.”

  “I know, Jake,” Al said softly. “You’re a great friend.”

  “But you gotta know, it’s gonna be hard getting those guys out in the open. They’ll make you use a cash drop. Then they’ll dump him somewhere, call you, and tell you where he is. You’ll never see ’em.”

  “I know that. But I think…I think I have something.”

  “What?”

  “An edge.”

  “Whaddaya mean?”

  “They must know I’m a judge. So, they think I wear spats and bow ties. Know what I mean?”

  Laughing, Jake said, “Most judges are geeks.”

  “That’s my edge.”

  “Yeah, but even if they wouldn’t think you’d pull anything, what can you do?”

  “In order to answer that question, you first have to look at the dynamics of a kidnapping.”

  “What, that it uses both force and extortion?”

  “Yeah, but if you dig deeper, you see there’s a major inequality in the setup. Only one side has an asset in play. That’s us. They have nothing on the line, nothing to lose.”

  “Uh-huh…”

  “It’s all rigged in their favor,” Al went on. “Whether they get a ransom or don’t, they’re not out anything.”

  “Okay. So, whaddaya——?”

  “Level the playing field.”

  “I knew it! You’re gonna nab one of those slimebags.”

  “I’ll just be letting the karma play out.”

  Jake laughed. Then, dragging each word out as he spoke, he said, “Kidnap a kidnapper… A game changer.”

  “They’ll never see it coming.”

  2

  ASHER WAS HAVING a hard time breathing. They’d crammed him into the trunk of an older Toyota. His hands were tied behind his back, a burlap sack covered his head. It was scratchy and mashed against his nose and mouth.

  He smelled kerosene, or maybe it was gasoline.

  Is there a leak? Is it coming into the trunk?

  All he could think about was getting out of there. He assumed that would happen once the kidnappers reached their hideout. But then he began to panic as he started visualizing the place where they were taking him.

  An underground dungeon? A hidden room in a basement? An abandoned warehouse?

  Bouncing around in the trunk, he was thinking he should’ve listened to Clark Booth, a friend from Big Canyon Country Club. “You better look into hiring security for yourself,” Clark had warned him. “You’re too accessible. Anyone can walk right into your office.”

  He remembered thinking at the time that Clark was joking. Now he wished he’d followed his friend’s advice or at least kept one of his handguns at the office.

  Finally, the car stopped, and the engine shut off. He heard car doors slamming and guys talking. Then it was quiet for a few seconds.

  After a couple of minutes, Asher yelled out, “Hey, can you get me out of here?”

  “Cool it. Be a minute.”

  A few moments later, the trunk opened. Two guys lifted him o
ut and removed the sack from his head. Asher glanced around. He saw that they were in some kind of storage yard. Trucks and work equipment were parked along the fence. The place smelled of tar.

  Three men surrounded him. The burly blond guy in front had a firm grip of his left arm. The other two behind Asher called him “Hank.”

  Although he was surprised they were using their first names, Asher didn’t think they were real. None of them wore masks or tried to disguise their appearance. At first, he took that as an indication they were professionals and knew what they were doing. But the more he thought about it, the more it started setting off alarm bells.

  Are they ever gonna let me go?

  Suddenly, Hank looked at one of the kidnappers behind Asher and barked, “Okay.”

  Then, as that guy took hold of Asher’s shoulders, Hank grabbed his shirt and pulled him in, so their faces were barely an inch apart.

  “Now that we took off the hood,” Hank said, “you gotta keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.”

  Asher stared at him for a second, then nodded.

  “You understand?” Hank demanded.

  “Yeah, I got it. Don’t worry about me.”

  Then, for no apparent reason, Hank got in Asher’s face again. “You fuckin’ understand?” he screamed, his head shaking in anger.

  Almost retching, Asher thought, Something must’ve crawled in this guy’s mouth and died. “Yes, yes, I’m not gonna say anything,” Asher assured him, turning his head away.

  Then, in a calmer voice, Hank said, “We’re taking you someplace. We’ll wait it out there until you can go back home.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t give us any shit, and you’ll be fine.”

  They walked him over to a burgundy, four-door Volvo and put the sack on his head again. Then they sat him in the back seat. Hank drove; the other two were in the back with Asher. After driving for several minutes, they turned into what Asher thought felt like the gradient of a driveway.

  When the car stopped, a guy in back took off the sack. Asher saw a neon sign that read “Fullerton Motel.” As he expected, it wasn’t a five-star accommodation. It was a broken down, dilapidated dump.

  “Bet you never stayed in a joint like this,” Hank said, laughing.

  Noting the bitterness in Hank’s voice, Asher said, “Believe me, I’ve stayed in plenty of places like this.”

  “That’s too bad. I thought you always had those big bucks.”

  “I started out as a framer,” Asher added, wanting them to know he knew how it was to work with his hands.

  “After we’re through with you, you may have to stay in shitholes like this.”

  The two guys in the back laughed.

  Hank exited the Volvo and walked toward the motel’s front door. As Asher watched him go inside, he was thinking that he looked like he could’ve played college football. A beefy guy, his head and neck were huge, out of proportion, like they were attached to his body as an afterthought.

  A few minutes later, Hank came out and the other two guys hustled Asher into the motel through the side door. Entering the room, they put him in a chair near the bed and wrapped a black cord around his ankles.

  After a few minutes, Hank asked, “Whaddaya think Linda’s gonna do? Go along or go to the police?”

  “She’ll do what you want. She doesn’t want any trouble.”

  “Yeah,” Hank said, “if she wants to keep you alive, she’ll have to do what I say.”

  Asher nodded. “Linda won’t do anything crazy.”

  But I don’t know about Roth. He’s the guy you have to worry about.

  3

  SEVERAL MINUTES LATER, one of the other kidnappers, “Ed,” turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels until he found an old Western.

  Seeing that Ed had put on a movie channel, Hank went ballistic. “Whaddaya doing?” he roared. “Put on a local channel. Maybe there’s something on there.”

  Ed fumbled for the remote, then ran through the channels, finally finding an Orange County one.

  After watching for a few minutes, Ed said, “I guess we’re not famous yet.”

  “If we were, then we’d know they went to the cops.”

  “Tim,” the third guy, came in the door, carrying a suitcase. He threw it on the bed. “Hey, Hank, where you wanna put this shit?”

  “The food gear, put that in the drawers over there. The other stuff can go in the closet.”

  After Tim had put everything away, the kidnappers sat around a small table and talked about the kidnapping.

  “Did you see the way that woman, his secretary, looked when we were taking Burns out of there?” Ed asked, smirking.

  “Yeah, she was trembling, scared out of her mind,” Hank said, chuckling.

  “Well, she was frightened,” Tim said. “What do you expect?”

  “Fuck you!” Hank snarled, slamming his fist on the table. “What, are you on her side?”

  Everything stopped; there was dead silence. You could’ve cut the tension with a knife. Tim was afraid to say anything, and Ed didn’t want any part of it.

  Then as Tim was nervously averting Hank’s crazed stare, Hank suddenly started shouting and jabbing his finger in his face. “You better watch your ass,” he yelled. “You hear me?”

  Still looking down, Tim nodded.

  After a moment, Hank shoved his chair back and stood up. “I can’t stay here with you losers. Gotta get over to my office, take care of some shit.”

  Ed said, “Okay.”

  “Sure, you pussies can handle this while I’m gone?” Hank asked as he went for the door.

  “We got it covered,” Ed answered, glancing at Tim.

  Shaking his head, Hank said, “I don’t know why I ever thought of bringing you two in on this.” Then he opened the door and left.

  When the door closed, Tim said, “He’s always been an asshole, but I think this is too much for him. It’s pushing him over the edge.”

  “He’s a good man,” Ed replied. “We just need to make sure he doesn’t flame out at us.”

  During the time Hank was gone, Ed and Tim watched TV. But that’s something of an overstatement. They really didn’t watch—all they did was flip through the channels.

  “That’s shit,” Ed said. “See if there’s something else on.” That went on for close to a half hour.

  Even when they weren’t mocking every program they ran through, Ed and Tim never shut up. They droned on about everything from their wives to fishing off Baja California in Mexico.

  “Great fishing in those waters,” Tim said.

  “Yeah, had some good times there.”

  After a few minutes, Tim said, “But I’ll tell you one thing. You don’t ever wanna go with Hank.”

  “I think I know, but tell me,” Ed said.

  “He gets roaring drunk. And as you know, he’s a mean drunk. Threw Jeff Peterson off the boat once.”

  “Yeah, I heard about it.”

  Of course, Asher heard all this too. It confirmed what he’d already thought—Hank was a scary nutjob. He girded himself for what could be some rough treatment coming his way.

  The way Hank treated his cohorts didn’t make Asher feel optimistic about how he’d treat him. If he’d belittle and put them down, what would he do to him?

  Tim was his favorite target. One time was a half hour after they got settled in the motel room. Tim said he wanted to go out and buy a video. “I’m gonna go to The Warehouse. Get something there. Better than this shit on TV. Anyone have any suggestions?”

  Hank immediately laid into him. “There’s nothing for your little brain to watch on TV?” he asked, laughing.

  “Why don’t you watch one of those soap operas?” Hank continued ripping into Tim. “You like shit like that.”

  “What’s eating you?” Tim shot back.

  “Fuck you. You wouldn’t be in on this if it weren’t for me. Just remember that before you open your mouth.”

  Hank’s violent temper and unpredict
ability worried Asher. He was beginning to think he’d be lucky to get out of there alive even if a ransom was paid.

  Shortly after Hank returned from his office, the kidnappers sat around the table and discussed how much he should ask for. At first, Hank said, “This guy’s filthy rich. It’s gotta be ten million.”

  The other guys thought that was too much. After kicking it around for a while, Hank reduced it to $8 million.

  Asher was thinking that the more they asked for, the more Roth would resist. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  A few minutes later, Ed said, “Let’s not fuck this up. I think two million is plenty. We don’t wanna push them too far. It could kill the deal.”

  Hank still held out for more.

  Now Tim chimed in. “Asking for that much could piss off Linda and her mother. Then they could give up trying to handle it themselves and go to the cops.”

  “Listen to the college boy over there,” Hank said, flashing him a sarcastic smirk. “Think you’re pretty fuckin’ smart, don’t you?”

  Squinting, Tim glanced at Hank, then looked down.

  “They’re not gonna go to the cops, you moron,” Hank yelled, gawking at him.

  No one said anything.

  After going back and forth for a few more minutes, Hank said, “Okay, I decided. It’s gonna be two million. With his dough, they won’t bitch that much. We can’t push them too far. You know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Tim said, glancing at Ed.

  “Whaddaya looking at him for?” Hank snapped.

  When Tim didn’t respond, Hank yelled, “Hey, asshole, answer my fuckin’ question.”

  “I don’t know. I was just…just looking.”

  Sometime after 7:00 PM, Hank thumped the table with his palm and looked at Ed. “Put it on,” he barked.

  Ed got up, went over to Asher. “Lift up your head,” he said.

  Then he slapped tape over Asher’s mouth.

  Coming without any warning or discussion, Asher started to wonder what they were going to do to him. But a few minutes later, he relaxed as he understood what they were up to—Hank was connecting a voice changer to the phone.