“What do you know about this?”
“Ah-ah, Mr. King, I asked you a question. Do you want the boy back?”
“Of course we do!”
“Now, now, don’t get excited, Mr. King. Don’t raise your voice. If you want the boy back, Adrian Score is your man.” He paused. “I know who kidnaped the boy, Mr. King.”
Again, the room went silent.
“Who?” King asked.
“That’s the big question, eh? Who? Well, Score’s got the answers, and Score can get the boy back, now what do you think of that, sir? Back home safe and sound, eh? Now how would you like that?”
“I’d like that fine. Who… ?”
“My services are available for the asking, Mr. King. Simply ask, and Score will oblige. Score will put his talents to the task of getting your boy back for you…”
“Well, who… ?”
“… at a nominal fee.”
“I see.”
“Yes, Mr. King. I imagined you would.”
“How much?”
“Can we measure the safety and well-being of a toddler in terms of cold cash, Mr. King?”
“The boy’s father is a chauffeur. The five-hundred-thousand-dollar demand is far beyond his—”
“Mr. King, please, please,” Score said, as if he could not tolerate the lie a moment longer. “Please.” He leaned forward, his hands clasped over the handle of the umbrella. His voice dropped to a whisper. Intently, he said, “I am ready to establish contact with the kidnapers, whose identity is already known to me, sir, and I will ascertain that the boy is alive and well, serving as a liaison between the principals, negotiating for the ransom payment, seeing that every term of the contract is strictly adhered -”
“Goddamnit, how much?”
“Five thousand dollars, Mr. King.”
“In addition to the exorbitant ransom demand?”
“I was thinking I might—But no, that would be far too risky.”
“What?” King asked eagerly.
“Perhaps, were you to deliver the five thousand dollars to me at once, I could get the boy back now. Tonight. Without necessity for further payment.”
“How would you manage that?”
“We are both businessmen, Mr. King,” Score said, smiling. “But does Macy’s tell Gimbels?”
“Who has the boy?”
“Business, business, Mr. King. Cash on the barrelhead in Score’s Store.”
“How do I know you can get him back?”
“You shall have to accept my word for that, Mr. King.”
“In business, Mr. Score, I accept no one’s word.”
“An admirable trait, to be sure. But a good businessman knows when his back is to the wall, Mr. King. And surely you can see I’m a man to trust. You realize the danger of my position, do you not, sir?”
King’s attention was momentarily diverted by Meyer Meyer, who had entered behind Score and stopped in the archway leading from dining room to living room. Score, apparently, had not seen the change of expression on King’s face. Blithely unaware of Meyer’s presence, he continued with his monologue.
“Surely you appreciate the danger of my position, surely you do. If these ruthless men were to suspect that I was planning to get the boy away from them, my life would be placed in instant jeopardy. These men are hardened criminals, sir, cutthroats who would stop at nothing short of—”
“Which men, Score?” Meyer called from the archway.
“Eh?” Score said, and he whirled in his seat to face the archway.
“Which men were you talking about, Score?” Meyer said.
Score studied Meyer painstakingly. “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure, sir,” he said.
“How’d you sneak past our men at the gate, Score?”
“Perhaps, Mr. King, you would do me the honor of introducing this gentleman. He seems to have made an error in—”
“I’ll introduce myself, Score, even though we’ve already met. Detective Second Grade Meyer Meyer of the Eighty-seventh Squad. Ring a bell?”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Score said.
“I see you’re still disguised as a leech.”
“Eh?”
“This is one of the biggest con men in the business, Mr. King, and he specializes in human grief. If someone’s kid is missing for as long as an hour, you can bet Adrian Score will be on the scene with some scheme for getting the kid back. At a nominal fee, of course.”
“This is absurd, Mr. King. Surely two businessmen should be able to discuss—”
“Get the hell out of here, you rotten louse! Get out before I arrest you as an accessory to a kidnaping!”
“Accessory to a… ?”
“Yes, accessory!” Meyer yelled. “A person who wilfully gives false information concerning a kidnaping while knowing that information to be false!”
“False… false… information?” Score squeaked.
“Get out, Score! I’m warning you!”
“Really, Mr. King. I am a guest in your home, a respected businessma—”
“Move!” Meyer shouted.
Score rose rapidly and handed King a small white rectangle. “My card, sir.” Backing off toward the door, he said, “Call me anytime, sir, anytime at all. The name is Score. Adrian Score.” He opened the front door, shot a hasty glance at Meyer and then shouted, “I can get your boy back!’3 and slammed the door behind him.
“That rotten parasite!” Meyer said.
“He called us both businessmen,” King said. “Why, he was nothing but a crook!”
“One of the worst. Human feelings mean nothing to him. But hang around a while, Mr. King. Score is only the beginning. We’ll be getting a wide range of ransom demands soon. Every filthy crook who’s looking for a soft touch will hop on the bandwagon as soon as he figures a gimmick. The woods’ll be full of kidnapers. We won’t know the real bastards from the fake ones.”
“How do we know we have the real one now?” King asked.
“We don’t. We can only assume we do.” Meyer paused and shook his head. “One thing’s for sure.”
“What’s that?”
“I sure as hell wouldn’t like to be back at the squad answering telephones right now.”
* * * *
“Eighty-seventh Squad, Detective Willis?”
“ ‘Allo, you know the kidnap, please?”
“Who is this?” Willis said.
“Who you?” the woman said.