Ed McBain - King's Ransom

“I’d better get Bobby,” Diane said. “Look at how dark it’s getting.”

“Let it wait a minute, Diane. Don’t you want to hear this?”

“Yes, but—”

“Honey, the boy is in his own back yard, for God’s sake.”

“Well… all right. But I really…”

“You heard Benjamin spouting off, didn’t you, Pete? Said that I had thirteen per cent of the voting stock, am I right?”

“Right.”

“Wrong!” King said. He paused, anticipating the dropping of his bombshell. “I’ve been buying stock quietly for the past six years. Right now, right this minute, I’ve got twenty-eight per cent of it.”

“Doug, that’s wonderful!” Diane said.

“But where does Boston come in?” Cameron asked.

“When did we go up there, Diane? Two weeks ago? Hanley’s been there since, lining this up, working on a guy who owns what I call a ‘disinterested’ chunk of voting stock.”

Quickly he crossed to a dropleaf desk in the corner, opened it, and pulled a checkbook toward him. Sitting at the desk, he began filling out the check.

“How much of a chunk?” Cameron asked.

“Nineteen per cent.”

“Whaaat!”

“Add it up. Nineteen and twenty-eight make forty-seven. That’s enough to swing any election my way, even if those idiots should try to work out something with the Old Man. Enough to make me president of Granger! That means I’ll run the company my way, and I’ll make whatever damn shoes I want to make!” He ripped the check from the book triumphantly and handed it to Cameron. “Here,” he said, “take a look at this.”

Cameron took the check and emitted a long, low whistle.

“Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” he said, awed.

“And that’s on a fifty per cent margin. That stock is costing me a million and a half bucks before this is over and done with. But it’s worth it, believe me!”

“Doug, where’d you ever… ?”

“I’ve converted damn near everything we own into cash, Diane. I’ve even taken a mortgage on this house.”

“A mor—” Diane stared at King speechlessly and then sat, suddenly overwhelmed.

“That’s… that’s a mighty big pile of money,” Cameron said.

“Everything I own! And a tight scrape at that, believe me. I couldn’t have got it for a penny less. Diane, this deal is going to make me.”

“I… I hope so, Doug.”

“It can’t miss, honey. Nobody can stop me now.”

“Who are you buying the stock from, Doug?” Cameron asked.

“A guy who cornered it on the q.t., and who doesn’t give a damn how we run the company. He’d just as soon have the cash as—”

“Who?” Cameron said. “What’s his name, Doug?”

“The beautiful part is that he’s got the stock spread over about two dozen proxies. Besides us, there isn’t a soul who knows he controls such a big chunk.”

“Who? Who is he?” Cameron said.

There was a slight cough at the end of the room. King turned toward the dining room. “Ah, Reynolds, there you are,” he said. “I want you to drive Mr. Cameron to the airport.”

“What’s the rush, Doug?” Cameron said. “I haven’t even got my reservation yet.”

“Well, then get on it right away, will you?”

“And I’d better get on Bobby right away,” Diane said. She went to the front door and opened it. “Bobby!” she called, “Bobby!”

“We’ll have to wait until Mr. Cameron makes his reservation, Reynolds,” King said. “That shouldn’t take too long.”

“Bobby!” Diane called. “Bob-by!”

The telephone rang. King picked it up.

“Hello?” he said.

“King?”

“Yes, this is Mr. King.” He covered the mouthpiece and turned to Pete. “Come on, Pete, get moving. There isn’t much time to lose.”

At the same instant, the voice on the other end said, “Don’t hang up on me this time, King. We’re not fooling around here.”

“What? I’m sorry,” King said. “What did you say?”

“We’ve got your son, King.”

“My son? What are you… ?” He turned quickly toward the door.

“Bob-by!” Diane called. “Bobby, will you please answer me?”

“Your son, we’ve kidnaped your son,” the voice said.

“You… you have my son?”

Diane whirled from the open doorway. “What? What did you say?”

“My… my son?” King repeated blankly.

“For the last time, we got your son Bobby. Is that clear?”

“But that’s…that’s impossible.”

“ What is it, Doug ?” Diane shrieked.

“Your son was in the woods, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, but—This isn’t a joke, is it? If this is a joke…”

“This ain’t a joke, King.”

“Doug, will you please, please tell me what…”

He motioned for her to be silent as the voice on the phone droned on flatly. “Now listen and listen hard because I’m only going to say this once. The kid’s safe. He’ll stay that way as long as you do what we say. We want five hundred thousand dollars in unmarked—”

“Just a minute, I want to take this down.” He reached over for a pencil and pad, snaring them from the desk top, the phone’s wire extended to its outermost limits. “Five hundred thou—”

“In unmarked bills,” the voice said, “small denominations. You got that?”

“Yes, yes. I’ve… Are you sure you haven’t harmed him?”

“He’s okay. No consecutive serial numbers on those bills, King. Get the money by tomorrow morning, understand. We’ll call you then with further instructions. Don’t call the police, King.”

“No. No, I won’t.”

“You understand?”

“Yes, dammit. I understand you completely.” Desperately, King’s mind searched for a means of trapping the caller. When the idea finally came to him, he executed it swiftly and suddenly, as if he were consummating a long-awaited business deal.

“Okay then,” the voice said, “five hundred thousand dollars in…” and King brought his finger down on the receiver bar, cutting off the connection. He whirled from the phone and shouted, “Pete, get on the kitchen phone. Call the police first. Tell them Bobby’s been kidnaped and we’ve had a five-hundred-thousand-dollar ransom demand.”

“No!” Diane screamed. “No!”

“Then call the phone company. Tell them I hung up on the bastard—”

“Why did you do that? You hung up on the man who has Bobby? You hung up on… ?” She could not complete the sentence. She rushed to the front door again and screamed into the gathering darkness, “Bobby! Bobby! Bobby!”

“I hung up on the off chance that he’ll call back,” King said. “The phone company may be able to trace it—and in the meantime, I can think. I can…” He paused. “Reynolds, get my address book upstairs. There’s a private detective we used once, when Diane’s pearls were missing. Di Bari, something like that, his name is in the book. Call him and get him out here right away.”

“Yes, sir.” Reynolds raced for the steps.

Diane slammed the door and ran to where King stood in the center of the room. “Five hundred thousand, you said. All right, call the bank. Right away! Call them this minute, Doug. We’ve got to get the money to them. We’ve got to get Bobby back!”

“We will get him back. I’ll give them whatever they want, a million if they want. I’ll raise it.” He took Diane into his arms. “Don’t worry, darling. Please, please, try to stop trembling. Try to…”

“I’ll…be all right. It’s… it’s…”

Cameron rushed in from the kitchen. “Police are on their way over, Doug,” he said. “Phone company standing by. Says to contact them on another line as soon as he calls again.”