Judson, who was frowning now toward the school bus, wondering why it wasn’t finishing its business and moving on, caught a glimpse of something moving in his outside mirror. He looked at it, and saw a man coming this way with something glittery and strange over his head. “What the-?” He twisted around to his left, to look back, and the man closed the distance, pulled open Judson’s door, and said, fast and low, “Not a move. Not one move.”
There was a gun in the man’s hand, down by Judson’s elbow. “Uh,” said Judson The Lincoln’s engine was running, but the gearshift was in park. Also, the car was wedged in both front and back by the truck and the Dodge. Still, Judson’s hand started to move almost instinctively toward the gearshift lever, when the door on the passenger side opened, and another one got in. Another gun, another mask over the head. Judson, looking at him, suddenly terrified at this apparition sitting next to him, realized what he was looking at was a Mickey Mouse mask, and for some reason that only made things more frightening.
Meanwhile, Angie had gotten into the backseat. “Hi, Bobby,” she said. “Do you know whose face this is I’m wearing?”
Bobby hadn’t seen the guns of the two men dealing with the chauffeur, but he’d heard the toughness in the one man’s voice, and he sensed the strangeness of what was happening. Frightened, not sure what to expect or how he should act, he said, “Who-who are you?”
“Who do I look like, Bobby?”
“You’re not Mickey Mouse!” He knew that much; and being able to say so, loud and clear, helped to calm and reassure him.
“But I’m making believe to be Mickey Mouse,” Angie said. “We’re all going to play make-believe for a while now.”
Up front, Henley had pressed his revolver into Albert Judson’s side. His voice soft, muffled by the mask, he said, “Let’s not scare the kid. Nobody’s gonna get hurt.”
“What do you-?” Judson’s mouth was dry. He coughed, and started again. “What do you want?”
“Think about it,” Henley said.
Parker. seeing that the chauffeur was under control, shut the Lincoln’s door again and went up to rap on the rear doors of the tractor-trailer. The doors swung open, pushed out by Krauss, who looked critically out and down at the Lincoln and said, “You’ll have to back it up.”
“I know.”
Parker walked back past the Lincoln to the Dodge. Inside the Lincoln, Henley was controlling the chauffeur and Angie was controlling the boy. She was talking to him, chattering at him, keeping him calm with a soothing flow of words.
Parker got into the Dodge, ran it backward about fifteen feet, got out of it, walked up to the Lincoln, opened the chauffeur’s door again, and said, “Slide over.”
Henley made room, and Judson slid over into the middle of the seat. He said, “You’re going to kidnap the boy!”
Henley said, “Keep it down. I told you, we don’t scare the kid.”
Krauss had pulled the metal ramp out of the truck partway and now, when Parker put the Lincoln into reverse and backed up till he was nudging the Dodge’s bumper, Krauss brought the ramp out the rest of the way and lowered it to the ground. Parker shifted into low and eased the Lincoln forward, up the ramp and inside the truck.
Bobby, wide-eyed, said, “What are we doing?”
“Have you ever been inside a truck before?” Angie tried to make it sound like a treat, or a game. “Inside a car that’s inside a truck?”
“I don’t think I want to do this,” Bobby said.
“Don’t be afraid, Bobby,” Angie said. “Nobody’s going to hurt you, I promise.”
Parker switched off the Lincoln’s engine, took the keys, and climbed out. It was a tight fit between the side of the car and the inner wall of the truck. Parker went sideways to the rear of the truck, dropped down to the ground, and helped Kraus slide the ramp back up inside the truck.
In the Lincoln, Judson had moved over behind the wheel again; not so he could drive, but so he would be further from the gun. Henley, facing him but staying on his own side, said, “Switch on the interior lights,” and Judson did so, without question.
Parker and Krauss closed the truck’s doors; inside, now, the only illumination came from the lights inside the Lincoln. Bobby, his fright being slowly overcome by curiosity as time went by with no attack against him, looked around and said, “It’s like being out at night, isn’t it?”
“That’s right,” Angie said. “We’ll pretend we’re going for a drive now, at night.”
Outside, Krauss and Parker had removed their masks. Ruth, at the wheel of the school bus, switched off the flashing red lights, put the bus in gear, and drove it off the road. Krauss got into the cab of the truck, started the engine, and drove off, accelerating slowly, the engine whining up through the gears.
Ruth got out of the bus and walked across the road to the Dodge. Peeling rubber gloves from her hands, she tossed them into the weeds beside the road, then got into the Dodge on the passenger side as Parker slid in behind the wheel. She said, “How’d the kid take it?”
“Fine,” Parker said. “Angie’s talking to him.”
Parker swung the Dodge around in a U-turn, drove back to the intersection, and picked up the detour sign there. He tossed it in the trunk, went back the other way again, passed the abandoned school bus, and caught up with the tractor-trailer at the next crossroad, where Krauss was removing the second detour sign, the one that had diverted traffic away from Edgehill Road while they were collecting the Lincoln.
Inside the Lincoln, Henley had taken out the handcuffs, and had cuffed the chauffeur to the steering wheel. Now, when Krauss knocked on the trailer doors, Henley turned to Angie, nodded at the boy, and said, “Get him ready.”
“I know.” Despite the muffling effect of the mask, Angie’s nervousness could clearly be heard, and she fumbled at first when she tried to take the other mask out from under her shirt. Then she got it, and showed it to Bobby, and said, “This is for you. The same kind of mask as the rest of us, see? Mickey Mouse.”
“For me?” Then he looked at it more closely, and said, “The eyes are taped up.”
“That’s because we’re going to go on playing nighttime,” Angie said. “We’ll be leaving the truck now, but you’re still going to make believe it’s night.”
“I won’t be able to see anything!” Renewed fright made the boy’s voice shrill.
“You’ll be holding my hand,” Angie told him. “It’s all right, it really is. Ask your chauffeur, there, he knows.”
Bobby looked doubtfully toward Judson, whose back was to him. “Albert?” he said. “Am I supposed to do that?”
Judson turned his head just enough to see Henley and the gun in Henley’s hand. “Answer the boy,” Henley said., his voice soft. He was holding the gun too low for the boy to see it.
Judson nodded. Not facing Bobby, he said, “It’s all right, Bobby. You do what these people say. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Bobby relaxed a bit, then, but still kept looking doubtfully at everybody, and when he said, “All right, then, I’ll wear the old mask,” his reluctance was clear in his voice.
Angie slipped the mask on over the boy’s head. “Is that all right? It isn’t too tight, is it?”
“No, it’s okay. It smells funny.” His voice, too, was muffled now.
“That’s the smell of rubber,” Angie told him. “Take my hand, now, we’re going to get out of the car.”
Henley led the way, opening the rear doors of the truck, then handing Bobby down to Parker. Angie got down, took the boy’s hand again, and led him over to the Dodge. Henley and Krauss closed the truck doors while Parker got into the Dodge and started the engine. Angie and Henley had gotten rid of their masks now, leaving Bobby the only one with his face covered.
They all got into the Dodge, the three men in front, the two women in back with the boy between them. Angie said, “Bobbie, this is Gloria, a friend of mine.”
“Hello, Bobby.”
Bobby said, his face toward Angie, “You took your mask off. Your voice sounds different.”
“You’re the one with the mask on now,” Angie told him. “We take turns.”
“And be sure to leave it on,” Ruth said. She sounded colder, more stern than Angie.
“I will,” Bobby said. Angie had been continuing to hold his hand, and now Bobby squeezed her fingers, holding on.
13
WHEN DORTMUNDER got to the intersection he made a U-turn and stopped, facing back the way he had come. He and May waited in the Caprice while Kelp got out and went around to the back of the car. Then he came around to the side again, rapped on Dortmunder’s window, and when Dortmunder rolled the window down Kelp said, “I need the key.”