“Now, now, watch your language in front of the boy,” Sy said. He grinned and tousled Jeffs hair. “Me, kid, all I ever learned was how to work in the jute mill. You ever work with jute? Don’t. It makes you sneeze. It crawls into your lungs. It even crawls up your asshole.” Sy began laughing. “How’s it coming, Doctor?”
“I’m getting it,” Eddie said, and the radio suddenly erupted into intelligible sound.
“… thirteen. Accident at Morrison and North Ninety-eighth. Car 303, signal thirteen. Accident at Morrison and North Ninety-eighth.”
“This is 303. Okay.”
“A snatch right under their noses,” Sy said, “and they’re worried about a traffic jam.”
“Hey, you going to take me back now?” Jeff asked.
“I’m busy, kid.”
Jeff turned to Kathy. “How about you?” He studied her for a moment, frankly, candidly. Then having formed his opinion, he said, “Aw, you’re a girl. What can girls do?”
Sy burst out laughing. “Kid,” he said, “you’d be surprised.”
“Car 207, Car 207,” the police dispatcher said. “Signal thirteen, join and assist Car 204 at Douglas King estate, Smoke Rise, adjacent River Highway on Smoke Rise Road. Signal thirteen, join and assist…”
“Hey, did you hear that?” Jeff said, excited by his discovery. “He said Douglas King!”
“… Smoke Rise, adjacent River Highway on Smoke Rise Road.”
“This is 207. Right.”
“The long arm of the law is beginning to reach,” Sy said. “What’d I tell you? Ask those crumbs not to call the cops, and it’s the first thing they do.” He shook his head sadly. “You can’t trust nobody nowadays.”
“Do you really expect to get away with this, Sy?” Kathy asked.
“Why, certainly. And all because Dr. Frankenstein has ideas. Me, I got a worthless hobby. Swing music. Can swing music help us on a thing like this? Can Harry James blow his way out of this one? Ahhh, but Eddie’s hobby, a dream, a dream. Radios.” He closed his thumb against his fingers and then kissed the collective bunch. “I love them. I love radios. I love Eddie.” He paused. “I even love you, Kathy. Outline it for her, Doctor.”
“She doesn’t want to hear it,” Eddie said.
She don’t?” Sy said, surprised. What’s the matter, baby, you cold-hearted or something? This gig’s gonna go down in history, believe me. And all because Eddie knows radio. Right now, we’re listening to the bulls on his monster there. But later… Man, when I think of this scheme, it gives me goose bumps.”
“Sy, she’s not interested,” Eddie said.
“I’m interested in anything you do,” Kathy said softly.
“Why, sure, she is. The little woman. Okay,” Sy said, “we called King on the way here. Told him we wanted five hundred grand, told him to get it ready by—”
Jeff blinked. “Did you say you called… ?”
“Shut up, kid. Told him to get it ready by tomorrow morning, and we’d call him then to let him know where and when the drop’s gonna be. Now here’s the beauty part, honey. You listening?”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay. Tomorrow morning, we buzz King again. We tell him—”
“Are you talking about—” Jeff started, and Sy shouted, “I said shut up, kid, now take a goddamn hint!” He glared at Jeff heatedly.
Jeff put his hands on his hips, swaggered over to Sy and, entering into the game, using his best tough-guy voice, said, “Who do you think you are, Mac?”
“Blow, kid, before you get hurt.”
Still playing, Jeff said, “You want to get tough with me, mister?”
“I said blow!” Sy shoved the boy aside angrily. Jeff, startled, stared at him and then frowned. The room was silent. And then, piercing the silence, the radio came to life again.
“Attention all cars, attention all cars. Here’s the story on that Smoke Rise kidnaping.”
“Hey, listen,” Eddie said.
“Be on the lookout for a blond, eight-year-old boy wearing bright-red sweater, blue dungaree trousers, white socks and sneakers, no hat, no gloves, may be carrying a toy rifle.”
“You’re famous, kid,” Sy said, grinning.
“The boy’s name is Jeffry Reynolds, answers to the name Jeff …”
“What?” Eddie said.
“That man said my name,” Jeff said, startled.
“Shut up!” Sy snapped.
“… is the son of Charles Reynolds, chauffeur on the King estate. There’s been some kind of a foul-up here, boys, and your guess is as good as mine. There’s been a five-hundred-thousand-dollar ransom demand, so chances are the kidnapers don’t know who they’ve got yet. Beats me. Anyway, that’s the story, and that’s all.”
“What’s he talking about, Sy?” Eddie said. Panic had covered his face like a coat of white paint. He stared at Sy, his eyes demanding an answer, his entire body demanding an answer.
“That man said my name,” Jeff said, astonished.
“They’re lying,” Sy said quickly. “They’re trying to put one over on us.”
“On police radio, Sy? They don’t even know we’re listening!”
“No, all they know is they want to get us, so they’re pulling a cheap trick. And don’t think King ain’t in on this. That crooked bastard!”
“How could we have grabbed the wrong kid?” Eddie wailed.
“He ain’t the wrong kid!”
“But suppose he is?” Kathy said calmly. “It means you’ve done all this for nothing. We’re in trouble for nothing.”
Eddie looked at his wife, and then at Sy. “You… you gonna believe what the cops tell you?” he said. “Kathy, you can’t believe them!”
“Who can you believe? Sy?”
“Why not?” Sy said. “I say this kid is Bobby King. Now how about that?”
“Me?” Jeff said, puzzled. “I’m not Bobby.”
“One more peep out of you—”
“Let him talk,” Kathy said. “What’s your name, sonny?”
“Jeff.”
“He’s lying!” Sy shouted.
“I am not!” Jeff shouted back. He glared at Sy and then said, “I don’t like you, you know that? I’m going home.”
He started for the door. Sy caught his arm and yanked him back, almost pulling him off his feet. He stood very close to the boy, and there was no humor on his face now, no laughter in his eyes. In a flat, emotionless voice he said, “What’s your name? Your real name.”
* * * *
6
The driveway to the King estate was flanked by two stone pillars, each of which carried an ornate glass-and-wrought-iron lantern. The pillars were set back some three feet from the private Smoke Rise Road which ran past the estate, the communications link between Smoke Rise and the outside world. Between the pillars and the gravel road was a shelf of grass. Grass, in fact, lined both sides of the road, framing the gray ribbon with an October-bitten off green.