Kidnapping A Kidnapper

by Bill Sage

  An hour and a half drifted by, and Miller still hadn’t come out. No more food, no more coffee.

  When is this schmuck gonna leave?

  Meanwhile, all the coffee Lopez drank was having an effect. So he got out of the Ranger and stood behind the trash bin, taking care of business. Got back in again.

  Fifteen minutes later, the door opened. Miller came out and got in his car. Then he headed for the freeway.

  It was 9:20.

  Miller got on the 5 Freeway and drove south, going back to Dana Point. Although following Miller back to his house was the last thing Lopez wanted to do, he reluctantly fell in behind him. What if Miller didn’t go home? Or what if he went somewhere after he returned home?

  This was the part of tailing someone he disliked the most. Even though he knew it’d be a waste of time, he felt he had no choice. He tailed him back to his home.

  His instinct was correct. As he thought, Miller drove straight home; didn’t stop off anywhere. He pulled into the garage and went inside. Lopez parked on a side street and waited patiently for as long as he could stand it. After 45 minutes, he decided to call it quits.

  Big surprise, he didn’t go anywhere.

  Then he headed over to Al’s place.

  26

  LINDA HAD ALREADY gone to bed. Al was watching the late-night news.

  “I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Al said, opening the door.

  “Let’s go in the den.”

  They went in and sat down.

  Lopez asked, “Did you get a call from the kidnappers tonight?”

  “Yeah…why?”

  “What time?”

  “Their regular time, around 7:15.”

  “You talk to the same guy?”

  “Hard to say. Voice changer. What are you getting at?”

  “I tailed Miller to a paving company in Santa Ana. It’s called All States. He got there a little after seven. Didn’t leave until around nine-twenty. If Miller’s involved, he or one of the other kidnappers could’ve called from there.”

  “Yeah, but that’s a big ‘if.’”

  “I don’t think they’d worry about calling from there if they believed you were keeping the cops out of it.”

  “The big question, though, is why would Miller go there? Does he own it, work there, or does it have something to do with Asher?”

  “So, whaddaya think?”

  “Assuming it doesn’t have anything to do with Asher, the most reasonable inference is that he’s the owner of All States. He went there to do some paperwork.”

  “Okay…”

  “It’d be different if he didn’t own it.”

  “Yeah. Why would he go there after they’d closed?”

  “Exactly,” Al said. “So not owning it and going there at night would tend to indicate possible involvement in the kidnapping. But if he owns it, that’s a reasonable explanation for going there after closing.”

  “Okay. I get it.”

  “Can you find out from Sylvia?”

  “That’s what I was gonna say. I’ll call her now. She still has time left on her shift.”

  Lopez picked up the phone and called Sylvia, a woman he’d worked with at LAPD. She was one of the supervisors in records.

  “Hi, sweetheart. It’s Sergeant Lopez.”

  After a few seconds, he laughed. “Yeah, I miss the place.”

  Then he asked her to check the records on All States Paving Company. “I need to know who owns it.”

  A few minutes later, she came back on the phone.

  Lopez listened. Then: “So they’re the owners?”

  A few seconds went by. “Uh-huh,” Lopez said. “Is that the most current information?”

  Another second went by.

  “Okay. Thanks, Sylvia. Lunch next Wednesday.”

  Lopez hung up.

  “The company is owned by Samuel H. Miller and a guy named Barry Schreiber.”

  “So, Miller’s an owner,” Al said in a demoralized voice. “I was hoping, you know…”

  “Yeah, that undercuts your working theory.”

  “But not all is lost.”

  Lopez’s face brightened up.

  “I’ll just change the theory, make it fit the facts.”

  Laughing, Lopez said, “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  “We know Miller drove all the way from Dana Point to Santa Ana to a paving company when it was closed. We also know he was there during the time I got the phone call. Another thing we know is that he’s been arrested doing crimes with Sands, who was working with the kidnappers, staking out my house.”

  Nodding, Lopez said, “Okay…”

  “But there’s one other thing. Miller’s middle initial is ‘H.’ That could stand for Henry. And Sands said the guy who called him said his name was ‘Hank.’ A lot to work with.”

  “Sounds promising to me. Worth checking out.”

  “Yeah, but keep in mind, that’s putting an inculpatory spin on the facts. As you know, the dots could also be consistent with innocence. It could lead us nowhere.”

  “It looks like we need to see what’s in that office. Sneak in at night…?”

  “Before we break into the place, we need to get confirming evidence. I’m working on something.” That was bullshit. Al didn’t have anything to go on. But he didn’t want Lopez to doubt his ability to come up with things no one else had thought of.

  “Okay, I’ll wait to hear from you,” Lopez said, getting up. “Meanwhile, I gotta get outta here.”

  “Say hello to my friend, Alondra,” Roth said with a smile. He knew she thought he talked Lopez into doing risky things.

  When Al finally slid into bed, Linda was still awake.

  “Who was that?”

  “Carlos.”

  “Something you’re doing on my dad?”

  Nodding, Al said, “He’s helping me. Using his sources.”

  “Has he come up with anything?”

  “No, but he keeps trying. He’s standing by us.”

  “Did they call?”

  “Yes. Same thing. We agree on the money, but I told them I need proof of life. They weren’t happy about that. I told them no deal unless we know he’s okay.”

  “Why do you think they’re resisting? Why wouldn’t they want to let us know?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Maybe they don’t want to do proof of life because they…they can’t.”

  “No, they couldn’t take that chance. If we hold out for proof of life and they can’t deliver, they’d get nothing.”

  Linda nodded.

  “But there’s another sticking point,” he quickly added.

  “What?”

  “They still don’t want to do a mutual transfer. They want it to be their way. We drop off the money, then go to a public phone booth somewhere. They’ll call us there and tell us where we can pick him up.”

  “How long is this back-and-forth going to go on?”

  “It should be coming to an end soon.”

  Al wanted to shift the topic to something else. “I keep thinking of that story you told me about your dad. You know, that race you were in.”

  Smiling, Linda said, “I was eight, and thought I was a fast runner. We were at a Carpenters Union picnic and I ran a fifty-yard dash. Came in fourth.”

  “You were in tears.”

  “Yeah. So, my dad bought me one of the prizes, a teddy bear. I knew I didn’t deserve it, but it really made me feel my dad’s love. The teary look in his eyes when he gave it to me, how proud he was. I’ll never forget.”

  “This time, you’ll be the one who’ll be proud. Proud of what we did to get him back. How we didn’t give in to their one-sided demands.”

  27

  TWO DAYS LATER, during the noon break, Al went to John Wayne Airport to pick up Jake. It was only 10 minutes from the courthouse.

  Linda knew Jake was flying into Orange County days ago but kept it to herself. It was her little secret. Al only found ou
t about it yesterday, when he was leaving for court.

  She’d come to the door to kiss him goodbye. “Jake’s coming out tomorrow.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I called him.”

  Al sighed, then smiled.

  Before he could say anything, she quickly followed up, saying, “I know you. That’s why I called him. You need him by your side. Now, for this.”

  “Linda…he’s got—”

  “I know you don’t want to bother him. But when I called, he was very excited about coming here. To be with you. He said it’d be his honor.”

  Al lowered his head, took a breath. Then, as he looked up again, he broke out into a smile.

  “He told me he’d hoped you’d ask him,” she went on. “He was waiting. So, don’t feel like you’re taking advantage of him.”

  Al didn’t have anything to say. But no doubt, he was happy about what she’d done.

  He took her in his arms. “I love you, baby. I’m glad you did it.”

  Smiling, she kissed him.

  Driving into the terminal’s passenger pickup area, Al spotted Jake standing at the curb. Wearing a navy-blue bomber jacket and khakis, he was hailing a cab for an elderly woman standing next to him.

  Al pulled to the curb and parked in front of the cab. Jake threw his suitcase in the trunk, then nodded at the woman, who was thanking him.

  Holding his black leather bag at his side, he got in.

  “Ah, the ominous black bag,” Al muttered.

  “Tools of the trade.”

  As they turned onto MacArthur Boulevard, Al said, “It’s nice to see you helping old ladies.”

  “Professional curtesy. She’s one of my compatriots. Working undercover.”

  “Great disguise.”

  “You have to be in the club to tell. Secret handshakes and winks.”

  Chuckling, Al said, “It’s good to have you here. There’s a synergistic effect when we work together.”

  “Yeah, that’s the way I was gonna describe it,” Jake responded with a smile. Then after pausing a moment, he asked, “Anything new?”

  “No, you’re up to date.”

  “I don’t know, but I have a good feeling about it.”

  Al didn’t say anything. He knew Jake was trying to buoy his spirits and confirm his undying support.

  “If you ask me,” Jake began, “I think we’re not only gonna get Ash back, but we’re gonna… What did you call it when Ben and I took out Goldman?”

  “Abate the nuisance.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I think is gonna happen here.”

  “That’s been my objective ever since they chopped off Ash’s finger. But we need to be careful. Ash’s caught in the middle. We don’t want to push them into doing something irrational.”

  “If there’s anything you’re good at, it’s planning shit. And you have a special knack for planning murders,” Jake said, staring at Al with a deadpan expression.

  Al shot Jake an annoyed glance, then burst into laughter. “You’ve always had a way with words.”

  “I call ’em as I see ’em,” Jake said, flashing a broad smile. “And more importantly, you know I’m right.”

  “It must be all that hanging out with you,” Al said, smiling. “But getting back to the kidnappers, for what we’re gonna do to ’em… nothing’s off the table.”

  “That’s what I hoped you’d say. When it comes to kidnappers, the gloves should be off. What I do—whacking dishonest mob guys—isn’t as bad. I’m taking garbage off the streets. But those guys, they hurt innocent people. They shouldn’t be shown any mercy.”

  “I put them in the same category as rapists and child molesters.”

  Nodding, Jake said, “Remember that animal who raped that eight-year old girl? Back in Detroit?”

  “The thought of that still sickens me. We took care of that freak. He wished he was dead after what we did to him.”

  “One of our proudest moments. And needless to say, he never was a threat to little or big girls ever again.”

  “Kidnappers are in the category, they’re the same shit.”

  “You are correct, sir.”

  “Unless they call the whole thing off, there’ll be no mercy. They’re forcing us to take risks with Ash’s safety. They’re gonna have to pay for that.”

  After parking in the garage, they went inside and walked into the family room. Linda came in to greet them. She gave Jake a hug.

  After talking for a while, Linda led Jake to his room. Al stayed downstairs.

  Looking around, Jake said, “This is nice. You guys did a good job in here.”

  “Thanks, Jake.” Then she helped him put away his clothes. She already knew not to ask any questions about what was in his black bag.

  “Garrottes and stuff like that,” Al once told her.

  While they were putting his stuff away, Jake said, “Linda, we’ll get him back. Al and I are working on it. He’s doing things he hasn’t told you about. Wants to keep you out of it.”

  Shrugging, she said, “I don’t know. Maybe I’d feel better if I knew.”

  “It would only worry you. Just know everything is being done.”

  Linda didn’t say anything, just glared at him for a few seconds.

  Jake looked away. When he turned back, she was still staring at him.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t even try.”

  “Tell me. I won’t…I promise not to say anything to Al.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  Frowning, she glared at him again.

  “We need to focus on our main objective,” Jake said. “That’s making sure nothing happens to Ash.”

  Linda kept burning her eyes into him. But after a few seconds, her frown faded, softening into a warm smile. “It’s good to have you here. You’re a good man despite what you do.”

  Laughing, Jake said, “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

  “All it means is that I’m glad you’re on our side. And that you’re with him now.”

  Jake smiled. “We’re all gonna get through this. When we’re old, we’ll sit around the dinner table and talk about how everything worked out. Maybe even laugh about it.”

  “I’m going to stay upstairs for a while,” Linda said. “Why don’t you go down and have a drink?”

  Jake took her advice and trotted down the stairs. Al was getting ready to return to the courthouse.

  “You going?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah. Afternoon calendar.”

  Al walked to the bar and took out the bottle of Oban, placed it on the bar. “Pour yourself a drink. I’ll be back around five-thirty.”

  “Before you leave,” Jake said. “I have good news about that little job for Congressman Ward. A guy Lou set me up with in Tucson has been tailing our friend Robert. He says he goes to the same bar for dinner almost every night. The place is called ‘Manny’s.’”

  “That’s fantastic. And on my end, Ward sent a guy from his staff over to court. He gave me an envelope with $4,000. So, we’re all set to take that creep down.”

  “Just fly there, get a hotel, then break some kneecaps.”

  “We better make it as soon as possible. Before we start kicking ass on the kidnappers.”

  “I’m way ahead of you. I already got plane tickets booked for tomorrow. Call in sick or whatever you have to do.”

  28

  AL RETURNED TO the courthouse, put his robe on, and told Judy he was ready. A few minutes later, he was back on the bench, hearing the sale of heroin case.

  Nodding to the defense attorney, Roth said, “You may continue your cross-examination.”

  The attorney slid his chair back, stood up, and faced the witness stand. “Officer, an informant tipped you off that my client was selling controlled substances out of his house. Is that right?”

  “Yes. The informant has a track record of giving us reliable information. And, of course, he was right about your client.”

  The defense attorney mad
e a motion to strike the officer’s last sentence. Roth granted it, saying, “Officer, don’t offer anything when you’re testifying.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  The attorney resumed his questioning. “Was he on your payroll?”

  “No government funds were given to him. My partner and I would buy him lunch every once in a while with our own money. But that’s it.”

  “Did he tell you about other dealers in the Costa Mesa area?”

  “No, not there. Santa Ana.”

  After listening to another half hour of testimony, Al suddenly froze. It had nothing to do with the trial. It was about Asher.

  Oh, Jeez, that’s it.

  Roth couldn’t remember a time when he’d wanted to call a recess more than right now. Everything other than calling Ben and giving him a question to ask Sands was totally unimportant.

  If his hunch was correct, it could pin down who was behind the kidnapping and where they were hiding him. It was so simple, he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before.

  But he didn’t want to run to the phone in the middle of the defense attorney’s cross-examination. So, he sat there waiting for an appropriate time to break in.

  The defense attorney was concentrating on something Roth knew was a dead end. But you couldn’t tell him that. If you had ever asked him, he would’ve told you he was one of the best trial lawyers in Orange County.

  “Didn’t you say something different before?” the attorney asked, thinking he’d caught the undercover officer in a lie.

  “What are you referring to?”

  “Motion to strike, Your Honor. Non-responsive.”

  “Sustained. Answer the question, officer.”

  “No, I never did.”

  “You wrote the report in this case, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I’m going to show you page two and ask you to read the third paragraph from the top.”

  The officer looked at his report, and after a minute, said, “Okay, I’ve read it.”

  Then the defense attorney asked him more questions about the report but never showed there was any inconsistency between it and his in-court testimony. It was proving to be nothing but a colossal waste of time and a study on how to lose the jury.