Kidnapping A Kidnapper

by Bill Sage

  “Does this have anything to do with having large feet?”

  Laughing, Asher said, “And I forgot to mention, you have a terrific sense of humor. But here’s the thing. You’re blessed with having loyal and fierce friends. Friends that love you and will follow you anywhere. Very few executives have that.” Then after pausing, he said, “We wish we did.”

  That shocked Roth. He wondered how much Asher knew about his past or his Detroit connections, especially Jake. Asher had met Jake and liked him, but Roth never mentioned what he did for a living. But from some of the things Al and Linda had said about Jake, Asher might have figured it out.

  “That’s why I not only respect you, but envy you,” Asher went on to say. “I’m glad Linda married you, although the way you made her wait, pissed me off.”

  Minutes later, Al heard Linda pulling into the garage. He went to the kitchen, opened the door leading to the garage.

  When she came inside, he hugged her. “I’m glad you went out.”

  She told him she’d gone to the office for a few hours. “Everything’s going fine. In fact, it looks like this will be a record month.”

  He was happy she was checking in with her staff and that there weren’t any problems. “It’s good for you to go in and see what’s going on. Take your mind off things, at least for a few hours.”

  Seeing his Scotch, she asked him to pour her one. It’d be too strong without a little water, so he added some to hers.

  After a few minutes, he said, “I think they’ll probably call about the same time.”

  “Don’t you think it’d be better for them to call at various times? Not be so predictable?”

  “Yeah, if they thought we’d gone to the police. But I think right now they’re trying to gain our confidence. So, calling at the same time falls into that.”

  Linda nodded.

  “And they don’t talk long enough for the police to track them anyway.”

  A few minutes later, the phone rang. It was 6:34.

  “Should I get it?” Linda asked.

  “No, I think it’s Carlos. I’m having him do some leg work for us.”

  Al answered the phone and went into the den.

  “Still nothing,” Lopez said.

  “Too bad. That would’ve given me something. Anyway, stick around until after 7:30. You know, that’s the time…”

  “Sure.”

  After thinking for a moment, Al said, “Either they never staked us out, or they did and stopped after they were convinced we weren’t going to the cops. My money’s on the latter.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. They started out watching the house.”

  “Either way, I have to do something to shake them up. Something to make them think they need to start the stakeout again.”

  After hanging up, Al went back to the living room, where Linda was sitting on the couch. She was holding the Scotch in her lap with both hands.

  She glanced up at him, her sad face melting his heart.

  He sat next to her. Placing his hand on hers, he said, “I know everything is gonna be fine. I feel more confident as we go along. All we need is proof of life, and we can set up the exchange.”

  Linda looked at him, then teared up. “It’s so hard…”

  “Let me handle it from here. You don’t even have to be in the room when I talk to them. There’s no reason for you to be talking to them and taking all the heat.”

  “Okay,” Linda said, nodding. “I don’t want to have anything to do with those bastards.”

  Linda went upstairs, and Al returned to the den. Poured himself another splash of Scotch but never took a sip. He sat there in the darkened room, waiting and thinking.

  Then he turned on the TV, lowering the sound, so he wouldn’t be distracted.

  A while later, the phone rang. Al saw it was 7:15. He answered it.

  “I wanna to talk to Linda,” the caller said.

  It does sound like he’s under water.

  “She’s very upset. Wants me to handle it.”

  “Are you her husband?”

  “Yes.”

  “Roth, you know we want two million?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll give you instructions on how you’ll drop it off. If that goes well, we’ll let him go home.”

  “We can get the money. Linda’s working on that now. But dropping off cash on a promise doesn’t sound right to me.”

  “Right or not, that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

  Al wanted to say, “And you can go to hell.” Instead he said, “Please, my wife won’t go along with it unless there’s a mutual transfer.”

  “You can hold out for that if you want, but all you’ll get is a dead father.”

  “No, please, you have to understand. This is—”

  “Hey, asshole, this isn’t your courtroom where you got that little hammer. Stop making a fool of yourself before you fuck everything up for Burns.”

  Doing his best to keep from laughing, Roth said, “You…you don’t have to use the f-word to make your point.”

  “What?” the kidnapper roared. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “No, I just—”

  “Oh, did I offend your delicate ass?”

  Roth took a breath but didn’t say anything.

  “You’re pathetic. Next time, try blocking your ears and humming loudly to yourself.”

  “Uh-huh…”

  “Listen, Roth, you’re gonna do it our way, period!”

  Roth intentionally let out a loud sigh. Then he said, “Your crude attitude proves I was right. I wanted to go to the police, but Linda didn’t. Now, with the way you want us to deliver the cash and hope we’ll get him back, it’s gonna make her think she was wrong. Don’t make this harder on her than it already is.”

  “You go to the police and he’s a dead man.”

  “No, no, don’t say that,” Roth pleaded.

  “I’m getting to think you don’t give a shit about Burns. Don’t care what happens to him.”

  “I’m only trying to make it a fair exchange. You have to see my point.”

  “I don’t have to see shit.”

  “Please…,” Roth said, staying on his game.

  “I know you think you can tell us what to do. I mean, you’re a big fuckin’ judge, right? But I think you need to learn that you’re not such a big shot. You’re a piece of shit, a nobody, who needs to be put in his place.”

  “I’m only trying—”

  “You’re way over your head, Roth. Maybe you need to be taught a lesson.”

  Then the kidnapper hung up.

  7

  NEXT MORNING BEGAN the same as usual. In the kitchen, Al put on the coffee. Linda was still sleeping, so when the coffee and toast were ready, he went into the den and turned on the TV news.

  After a few minutes, Al went outside to get the Orange County Register. When he opened the door, he saw a small box lying on the door step. He carefully picked it up, then grabbed the newspaper and returned to the den.

  Sitting down on the couch, he examined the box. No return address or postmark. A white label read, “To Linda Roth.” It wasn’t professionally packaged. The brown wrapping paper was loose and uneven. It looked as if the masking tape had been slapped on by a small child.

  Al didn’t like what he was thinking. The Godfather horse head scene. Whatever was in that box, it couldn’t be anything good. It had “evil” written all over it.

  Even though it was addressed to Linda, he felt he should open it first. What if it was what he thought?

  He cautiously unwrapped the box, throwing the paper on the floor. Then he slowly opened it, hoping for the best.

  But it was what he had feared…

  Asher’s finger lying on bloody paper towels, his wedding band still attached.

  Judge Roth’s craving for revenge now became overwhelming. This changes everything. There’ll be no proportional response. Not after this.

  He closed the box, got up and p
ut it on the bar. Stood there for a second, feeling like he was going to throw up. He took a breath, then went back to the couch.

  Sitting down again, he wondered if this was his fault. He could have given in to the kidnappers and agreed to drop off the cash without getting Asher back at the same time. But instead, he’d stalled them off, trying to bait them into running the stakeout again.

  How would he tell Linda? Just walk into the bedroom and show her the box? And if he did that, would she always associate the sight of her dad’s severed finger with him?

  There were no good choices.

  But whatever the consequences, he understood he had to do it.

  He heard her getting out of bed. So, he poured some coffee in her cup and took it and the box upstairs. When he entered the bedroom, she was putting on her robe.

  Handing her the cup, he said, “Freshly brewed.”

  As she took a sip, she pointed at the box. “What’s that?”

  Al made her sit down on the bed.

  He peered at her for a second, then let out a sigh. “Something…something bad has happened to your dad.”

  Then he told her what the kidnappers had done.

  She screamed, then began crying. He took her coffee cup and placed it on the nightstand. Then he held her in his arms, kissing her tears.

  After a few minutes, she said, “Let me…let me see it.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you want. But I’m just thinking that maybe it would be better to wait until your mother is here. Both of you can look at it together. Want to do that?”

  She looked at him, then nodded her agreement. Didn’t say anything.

  He took the box, went downstairs, and called Linda’s mother.

  A half hour later, when Donna came over, Al took her upstairs. Linda stood up to greet her, then they sat on the small couch on one side of the bedroom.

  Al walked downstairs, got the box, and brought it up. He handed it to Linda and returned to the den. Didn’t want to be there when they looked inside.

  After a few more minutes, he left for the courthouse.

  The last place Judge Roth wanted to be was in the courthouse. But as long as he wanted to keep the kidnapping secret and act like nothing was wrong, this was the hand he’d dealt himself.

  Late in the morning, the jury in the burglary case advised Judge Roth that they were still hopelessly deadlocked. After questioning the foreman, Roth reluctantly declared a mistrial and set the case for retrial.

  In the hallway, several jurors talked to Seymour, the defense attorney. One juror, a tall guy from Tustin, said, “I thought he did it. I mean, look at all the evidence. It was overwhelming. But I still felt the DA hadn’t proved his case.”

  Seymour smiled, making it look like he was agreeing with the juror’s unbelievably irrational statement.

  The sole black juror, a retired postal worker, asked, “How does it feel to get a guilty guy off?”

  Chuckling, Seymour said, “Ah, I know how you voted.”

  The other jurors glanced at the black juror, then walked away.

  “I didn’t buy all the smoke and mirrors,” the black guy said, shaking his head. “But I don’t know. Maybe there’s a white dude who looks just like your client, burglarizing liquor stores in Costa Mesa.”

  “I’ll have to use that defense in my next trial,” Seymour said, nodding.

  The juror smiled as he shook his head.

  Smiling back, Seymour said, “Thanks… Thanks for doing your civic duty.”

  Al made dinner that night. He thawed out a pasta sauce he’d made last week. It was made with ground veal, hot Italian sausage, sage, and fennel.

  Heating up the sauce, he asked Linda, “You want mafalda or pappardelle?”

  “Pappardelle. And I’ll make a salad,” she said with a smile. “I know you won’t.”

  Smiling, Al kissed her. “I love you, baby.”

  When it was getting near 7:00, Linda said, “I’m feeling a little better about what they did, but I still don’t want to be in the room when you talk to those assholes.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “After what they did to my dad, do you know what you’re gonna say to them? Any change in your strategy?”

  “It’s difficult. I can’t threaten them. They have Ash, and all we have is the ransom money. They have the upper hand.”

  Linda took a breath, then stared at him for a moment.

  From the way she looked, Al thought she had something on her mind. He waited.

  He was right. A few seconds later, she came out with it. “I know this will…I’m just thinking. Now, after what they did, it’d be nice if you…you and Jake could, you know, even it up.”

  That surprised Al, but not that much. Linda was no naïve do-gooder. In fact, whenever he had to sentence a child molester, she wanted him to throw the book at him. So, it wouldn’t take much for her to want to get even with the slimebags who chopped off her dad’s finger.

  But Al still didn’t want to disclose what he was up to.

  “We have to be careful,” he said with a shrug. “Like I said, they have Ash.”

  “You’re right. I was just, you know, thinking out loud.”

  “I’ll let you know what’s going on.”

  Linda went upstairs to the bedroom.

  Roth waited in the den. At 7:10, he closed the den doors. Didn’t want Linda to hear what he’d say.

  When the phone rang, he answered.

  The kidnapper said, “Now you know we’re not playing games.”

  “That was cruel,” Roth said, in an overly emotional way. “You didn’t have to do that. That was awful!”

  “Blame yourself, Mr. Judge.”

  “My wife and I were…we were prepared to cooperate. Do what we had to. Didn’t want any trouble or problems. But now, after what you’ve done, we think not…not going to the police was a mistake.”

  “Next time it could be his head.”

  “Stop that kind of talk!” Roth cried out. “Now we think if we drop off the money somewhere, we’ll never see him again. I can’t handle it.”

  “Look, don’t get hysterical. We’re not doing anything to him. If…if you cooperate.”

  “How can we trust you? That was barbaric. If we’d gone to the police, that wouldn’t have—”

  “If you go to the cops, you’ll never see him again.”

  “Stop talking like that!” Roth said an emotional voice. “You have to think about how uncomfortable that makes us feel when you say those horrible things.”

  “Listen, asshole, don’t think we won’t know if you go to the police—we will.” After pausing a moment, he added, “Don’t do anything stupid. Follow my instructions and everything’s gonna go your way. But if you continue to—”

  “Just stop! I can’t take this anymore. Everything you say frightens us. You’re making me… Oh, I’m getting too upset.”

  “Calm down, Roth. Do as we say, and it’ll all work out.”

  “You haven’t been fair to us, especially to Linda. You’re…you’re leaving us no choice.”

  This time, Roth hung up on the kidnapper!

  Leaning back in the couch, Roth thought about what he’d said. He hoped he hadn’t overplayed it.

  Then he picked up the phone and called Lopez. Told him what they’d done to Asher’s finger.

  Lopez let out a deep sigh. “I can’t believe those animals did that. Poor Linda.”

  “It makes me want to get back at them even more than before.”

  “All of us love Linda. She’s your wife and always treats us good.” After pausing several seconds, he said, “You know, I…I wanna be there.”

  “If things go right, you’ll have more than stakeout work to do.”

  “You know I’d like that. I’d love to be in on the heavy stuff.”

  Al didn’t say anything, but he was thinking that Lopez was a great friend. Then he told Lopez what he’d said to the kidnapper about the police. “I made it sound like I was worried and w
ished we’d reported it.”

  “If they ever thought of watching your house,” Lopez said excitedly, “they’d certainly do it now. I’ll be out there tomorrow.”

  They hung up.

  Feeling confident the kidnappers would be watching his

  house tomorrow, Al called Ben Selik in LA.

  Ben had been in the 12th Street Gang with Jake and Al in Detroit. After high school, he moved to LA and started working with some mob guys. Usually hijackings, burglaries, or strong-arm stuff. If he ever did any hit jobs, he never told Al out of respect for his position as a judge.

  A few years after arriving in LA, Ben opened Detroit Metal Works, a scrap metal yard in North Hollywood. He’d always been involved in buying and selling scrap metal, even going back to the old Detroit days. Not only did he like the business, but it gave him a perfect front for laundering his illegal profits.

  Al told him about Linda’s father, his finger, and what Al was trying to do.

  This was the first Ben had heard of it. He was enraged and hoped Al was planning revenge.

  “She’s such a sweet girl,” Ben said. “I wanna do something to help you and Linda. Anything you want me to do. Just name it.”

  After pausing a moment, Al said, “That’s part of the reason I called. I need your help.”

  “Linda’s father… I’ll do anything.”

  “Great. I need you to get an old, piece-of-shit junker. You could even have one on your lot.”

  “If I don’t, I’ll get one. When do you want it?”

  “If things go right, it could be tomorrow.”

  Then Al explained what he wanted Ben to do.

  “Never did anything like that,” Ben said in an uneasy voice. “But no problem.”

  “Do you think you’ll have any problem on the other item?”

  “As you can imagine, I don’t have anything like that on my lot. I got a source, though. I’ll have to check it out.”

  “If it goes down tomorrow, is it gonna be you and Phil?” Phil was Ben’s longtime friend and associate.