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backdrop on the other side. When the picture was developed,
Kessler nodded with satisfaction. He moved in closer then,
shooting downward at an angle to get the detail of the bar and the
manacles.
The bar was removed then, and they were taken from the car.
Romstead s hands were cuffed behind him again, and they were
covered by the ever-vigilant Tex with the shotgun while Kessler
photographed something on the floor of the car behind the front
seats, using flash bulbs this time because the floods couldn t be
brought to bear. When he had two shots to his satisfaction, he
nodded to Tex.
 All right, show it to him.
Tex gestured with the gun and nodded. Romstead hobbled
forward and looked in around the front seat, which was tilted
forward. There was enough peripheral light from the surrounding
floods to make it out, though except for one chilling item, none of
it made much sense to him. A square aluminum-cased piece of
electronics equipment that was obviously homemade because it
bore no manufacturer s nameplate was mounted on foam rubber
and strapped in place on the floor on the far side. On this side
what appeared to be a whole bank of batteries was likewise
secured in place, and in between were several interconnecting
cables lying loose on the floor. The dynamite was just barely
visible, but he was sure that Kessler had framed it in the picture
exactly as he wanted it.
Man on a Leash  109
There were two bundles of it, one under each seat with only the
ends protruding. There were seven sticks in each, strapped
together and somehow secured to the floor, and the center stick
was armed with a detonating cap whose bare copper wires were
connected to some of those running across the floor.
 Just for the pictures, Kessler said behind him.  We ll disarm it
until you re on station.
The great-hearted nobility of that, Romstead thought, was
somewhat diluted by the fact that one of them would also be in the
car to that point, to drive it. He d be shackled and blindfolded.
They had now raised the lid of the trunk, and Kessler was
photographing the interior with flash bulbs. The second shot
appeared satisfactory.
 All right, he said.  Let him see it.
Tex gestured with the shotgun. Romstead duck-walked around in
back. There was more arcane electronics equipment foam rubber
mounted and lashed in place around the peripheral areas of the
trunk, again homemade and interconnected with lengths of
insulated wire and cables, but it was the chest or box that
immediately caught his eye and was in its own way as ominous as
the dynamite. It took up most of the space in the trunk and was
large enough to hold two big suitcases, constructed of welded
quarter-inch steel plates lined with asbestos. There was a hinged
lid, also of steel plate and asbestos, and a heavy latch on the front
of it.
 You see? Kessler asked.
 Sure, Romstead replied bleakly.  So why should we go?
 You re misinterpreting it. We just want you to know we re not
bluffing; we ll blow it if you force us to. You re a dangerous man,
Romstead; we admit it. You re too much like that old son of a bitch
to begin with, and we ve learned a little of your background. If you
thought we d hesitate for a minute in sending it up because we d
also be blowing the money all over half the state, you d take the
chance. So we took the temptation away from you. If you force us
to make it jump, as the French put it, that s too bad, but the
money s still safe.
Romstead said nothing, but his face, largely concealed under the
blindfold, was intensely thoughtful as they were herded back to
the house and into the bedroom. Apparently even a genius could
make a small mistake now and then, and maybe if he boasted and
embroidered long enough, he might make a bigger one.
Man on a Leash  110
He lay stretched out on the bed looking at the passbook and
withdrawal slip from the Southland Trust and listening to Kessler s
voice on the intercom. At the moment it was addressing Paulette
Carmody.
  just so you won t waste any of our time hoping we don t know
what we re talking about and trying to bluff, I ll give it to you fast,
chapter and verse. Your husband left an estate of just a little over
three million dollars after taxes, all of it to you. About seven
hundred thousand of this is real estate, a house in La Jolla, the one
in Coleville, some waterfront in Orange County, and the tax-shelter
ranch near Elko. About a half million is stock in the land
development company he founded in 1953. The rest, pretty close
to a million nine hundred thousand, is in bonds, some tax-free
municipals, school district, and so on some industrials, and some
government. The executor of the estate was your husband s
younger brother, Jerome Carmody, a La Jolla attorney who s also
your attorney.
 The ransom note is addressed to him, to verify the phone call
he s already received. It goes out tonight airmail special delivery
from some place we ll just say is north of the Tehachapis, along
with the pictures to prove we re not lying or bluffing. We want a
million eight hundred and thirty thousand from you. It s not his
money, so there s no strain. That s what makes this a rather
unique kidnapping you re both paying your own way.
 He ll get the note early tomorrow morning, and he can do the
whole thing in one business day. We want delivery of the money
day after tomorrow. There are two ways he can do it. He can
either mortgage all your holdings for that amount, or he can sell
the bonds 
 Forget it, Pauline Carmody interrupted. She was sitting on the
other bed, smoking a filter tip.  The bonds are in my name, and
nobody can sell them except me, so he couldn t if he wanted to.
And a mortgage form has to be executed before a notary 
 Nice try, Kessler s voice interrupted in turn.  But we happen
to know he has your power of attorney.
Romstead saw her wince a little at this, but she recovered fast.
 Which is void the minute I m dead, she replied.  And as a
graduate of Stanford Law School he might conceivably know that.
 But you re not dead, and we ve just taken some pictures to
prove it. But you will be if we don t get that money, so let s get on
with it. He s to deposit it in the Southland Trust and make
arrangement for it to be available in cash by day after tomorrow at
Man on a Leash  111
noon. These things can be expedited when there s an emergency
and enough big-money clout behind them.
 And now, Romstead. We want a hundred and seventy thousand.
All you have to do, naturally, is sign that withdrawal slip. It s not
the bank s money; it s yours, and what you do with it is your
business. We ve already contacted your friend Carroll Brooks there
by telephone .
 No. It was Romstead s turn to interrupt.  The signature
doesn t mean a thing. The bank is obligated to turn the money over
only to me or somebody I ve designated as my authorized agent.
 Which is exactly what the bank is going to do. Deliver it to you
personally. Kessler s voice was smug.  Along with Mrs.
Carmody s, since she ll be there too. Carroll Brooks is going to do
it.
So now he s made the second one, Romstead thought, but he
kept his face impassive, knowing he was being watched through
the mirror.  It ll like hell be Brooks, he said scornfully.  You know
as well as I do it ll be a special agent of the FBI. You don t think [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]