Jimmy the Kid

"Could be the kidnappers sent a dummy out to make the call, somebody that isn't really part of the gang. So if we traced the call and got her, she wouldn't be able to tell us anything."

"Very clever," Harrington said.

The head FBI man nodded. "We're up against a shrewd gang of professionals," he said, with a kind of gloomy satisfaction. "That'll make it tough to catch them. On the other hand, it means the boy is probably safe. It's your amateurs that panic and start killing people; your professionals don't do that."

"It all seemed very professional to me, too," Harrington said. "Speaking as a layman, that is. But the truck, and the school bus, and so forth."

"Very carefully planned." The head FBI man stroked his craggy jaw. "I keep thinking I've seen that MO somewhere before," he said.

"MO?"

"Modus operandi. Method of operations."

"Isn't that interesting," Harrington said. "The way the initials work in both Latin and English."

"Yeah," the head FBI man said. "I'll have to run it through our computers down in Washington, see do we come up with something." He nodded thoughtfully, then became more brisk. "Now," he said, "about the payoff."

"Yes," Harrington said. "I was wondering about that."

"We'll try to recover your money, naturally," the head FBI man said. "We'll even try to set a trap with it if we can, though I think this bunch is probably too sharp for that."

"I got that impression," Harrington said.

"The main point is to recover the child. The money is secondary."

"Certainly."

The head FBI man nodded again, and said, "How long do you think it'll take to get the money together?"

'Well, it's too late to do anything tonight." Harrington frowned, considering the problem. "I'll call my accountant in the morning, work out the best way to handle this, from a variety of points of view. You may not be aware of this, but money paid to a kidnapper is not deductible on your income tax."

The head FBI man looked interested. "It isn't?"

"No. I remember running across that while looking up something for a client. I don't recall the justification; possibly it's considered payment for a service, nonbusinessconnected."

"I've never had much to do over on the Treasury side," the head FBI man said.

"In any event, there are various ways of going about it. Sale of securities, depending on whether it would be long-term or short-term gains, possibly loans against my margin accounts where my portfolio has increased sufficiently in value, various possibilities. Well, I'll talk it over with Markham in the morning."

"But how long do you figure it'll take?"

"Really, you know," Harrington said, "the most difficult part is going to be conversion of assets to cash, actual paper money. I don't believe I know anyone who deals in cash."

"Banks do," the head FBI man said.

"Eh? Oh, of course! I never think of them that way."

"I still want to know how long. Two days? Three?"

"Oh, good Lord, no. I should have the liquidity by noon. One at the latest."

"Tomorrow?"

"Certainly tomorrow. Then it all depends how long it takes to bring the currency out here."

"We'll take care of that," the head FBI man said. He was frowning deeply, studying Harrington's face. "Mr. Harrington," he said. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"That business about the eighty-five thousand, that was all you could raise tomorrow. Do you mean you really were haggling?"

Harrington thought about it. In sudden surprise, he said, "Why, yes! I do believe I was."

The head FBI man looked at him. He didn't say anything.

"It was just force of habit," Harrington said. Then, when the head FBI man continued to gaze at him unspeaking, he added, "I certainly wasn't going to turn the deal down."

18

After dinner, Jimmy went back to work. The fact that the boards were nailed to the outside of the window frames rather than the inside made his task a bit more difficult, but not impossible. He had removed one board before the cooking woman had brought him his dinner — how unearthly an adult wearing a Mickey Mouse mask could look in just the glow of a flashlight-and now he was removing more. They were fairly narrow boards, and he thought it likely he'd have to deal with four of them before making a space wide enough to climb out through.

His method was simple, but time-consuming. With the screwdriver, he would pry the board a bit loose, then oil the nails as he worked to keep them from squeaking. A bit at a time, prying and oiling, prying and oiling, he would loosen the board from the window frame. The final fraction was always the trickiest, since he didn't want the board to fall out onto the ground below; managing to avoid that, he would bring the board inside, then use the pliers to snap each nail off short. After oiling the nails once more, he would put the board back in place, the stubby nails slipping a short distance into their former seats in the window frame. The boards looked the same as before, but would pop out at the touch of a finger.