Not My Thing

‘What’s five million dollars to you, Mr Jamison? That’s the deal. A nice, safe, well organized job, and you’ll be rid of your wife for good.’

Jamison sat still for several seconds while his mind went into action, then, satisfied with his thinking, he leaned forward, pointing his finger at Kling.

‘So you think you’ve been smart!’ he rasped. ‘Now, I’ll tell you something. You won’t get a dollar out of me, and I’ll tell you for why. In this ransom note you left, you say that unless the ransom is paid, my wife will be killed. Don’t you see, you stupid hunkhead, that’s what I want! I want her dead! What are you going to do with her? You’ll get no money from me! So you’re landed with her! Now, get out!’

Kling burst out laughing. The sound of his laughter was so genuinely amused that Jamison felt a chill run down his back. ‘You heard what I said!’ he shouted. ‘Get out!’

‘Mr Jamison, it beats me how guys like you make so much money. I guess you must be dealing with prize suckers,’ Kling said. He stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Tell me something, Mr Jamison, do you admire the Japanese technology?’

Jamison stared at him.

‘I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about! I told you to get out!’

‘The Japs are great people,’ Kling said. ‘At one time, they were imitators, but not now. They are ahead of the world in electronics. Listen to this.’ He put his hand inside his jacket, then Jamison’s voice came clearly into the room.

In this ransom note you left, you say that unless the ransom is paid, my wife will be killed. Don’t you see, you stupid hunkhead, that’s what I want.

Kling’s fingers moved and the voice stopped.

‘Marvellous, don’t you think, Mr Jamison? Electronics. New inventions. I always carry this little gimmick around with me. When we had our interesting talk about the bomb, I had it working. I have a good tape of our conversation.’

Jamison sat motionless, stunned, then he thought of the .38 revolver he kept in his top drawer of his desk. In frustrated fury and alarm, his hand moved to the drawer.

‘No, Mr Jamison. Don’t try that,’ Kling said gently. ‘Look!’

As Jamison stared at him, an ugly-looking Beretta appeared as if by magic in Kling’s hand.

‘Before you even touch your gun, Mr Jamison, you’re dead,’ Kling said. ‘Now, relax. Put your hands on your desk.’ As Jamison obeyed, Kling returned the gun to its holster. ‘Okay, now we can talk. You are way out of the big league, Mr Jamison. Okay, you are great when dealing with prize suckers, but not with professionals like me. Let’s take a long look at the setup. I have promised to get rid of your wife. I’ll do that, because in my racket when a killer fails it gets known, and that’s bad for my business, so I get rid of your wife. In return, you pay into my Swiss bank five million dollars. I know to a piker like, you, Mr Jamison, parting with money like that hurts. Now, if I were dealing with prize suckers as you do, I’d think this bastard was bluffing. If he gives his tapes to the cops, he would be in the same shit as I would be, so he’d be bluffing.’ Kling smiled evilly. ‘That would be wrong thinking, Mr Jamison. Let me spell it out. If you don’t pay five million dollars into my Swiss bank, I am going to the DA and tell him a story. My story will be you hired me to murder your wife and offered to pay me three hundred thousand dollars. Now, I tell the DA that money means something to me, so I conned you. I’ll tell the DA I had no intention of murdering your wife, but every intention to get your money. So the DA listens to the tapes. When he knows who you are, he will fall over himself to nail you. When you are as big as you are, you have many enemies, Mr Jamison. You have a wolf-pack behind you, waiting to pull you down. Then the press get hold of it, and they’ll crucify you. Here is one of the richest men in this country, planning to get rid of his wife by murder! Man! Won’t the press have a ball! So what happens? You’ll be arrested and thrown into the slammer. Then, because you have lots of clout and money, you hire the best attorneys who will work like crazy to get you off the hook. But Mr Jamison, I will be willing to testify against you. When a jury hears me, you don’t have a hope to beat the rap. Right. Now, first the Judge will consider me. I will have admitted to kidnapping your wife, but have returned her safe and sound. So he’ll send me away for a couple of years. Then he’ll take a long look at you. You will go away for at least fifteen years, Mr Jamison, and you will be ruined. Right. Now when I get sentenced, my Mafia friends will appeal and get my case – not yours – before a Mafia judge who will shake his head, fine me two thousand dollars, and I’m free again, but not you. This is the result of being a professional. Get the photo?’