Ransom (The Barclay Family Adventures 2)

Ransom BY

Ed Hanson

THE BARCLAY FAMILY ADVENTURES Series 1

Series 2

Amazon Adventure

African Safari

Danger at 20 Fathoms

Disaster in Oceania

Desert Ordeal

Falsely Accused

Forest Fire

The Floodgates

Hostages

Free Fall

Lost at Sea

Hurricane

Mountain Blizzard

Iron Mountain

The Pass

Mystery at Bear Lake

The Swamp

Ransom

Tornado

Sunken Treasure

Development and Production: Laurel Associates, Inc. Cover and Interior Art: Black Eagle Productions

Three Watson Irvine, CA 92618-2767 Website: www.sdlback.com Copyright © 2005 by Saddleback Educational Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.

ISBN 1-56254-808-5 Printed in the United States of America 10 09 08 07 06 05 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

CONTENTS CHAPTER

PAGE

1 A Baffling Mystery . . . . . . . . . . . 5 2 The Demands . . . . . . . . . . . . . .12 3 The Switch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .18 4 Rescue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .25 5 Pam Remembers . . . . . . . . . . . .31 6 Two Suspects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .37 7 Aaron’s Mistake . . . . . . . . . . . .42 8 On the Lam . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .47 9 A Third Suspect . . . . . . . . . . . . .52 10 Help From the North . . . . . . . .57

MEET THE BARCLAYS

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Paul Barclay A fun-loving father of three who includes his kids in his adventures whenever he can.

Ann Barclay The devoted mother who manages the homefront during Paul’s many absences as an on-site construction engineer.

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Jim Barclay The eldest child, Jim is a talented athlete in his third year of college on a football scholarship.

Aaron Barclay A high school senior, Aaron is inquisitive, daring, and an absolute whiz in science class.

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Pam Barclay Adopted from Korea as a baby, Pam is a spunky high school freshman who more than holds her own with her lively older brothers.

CHAPTER 1

A Baffling Mystery “Aaron, hurry up!” Ann yelled up the stairs. “If you don’t get a move on, you’ll miss the bus!” Why does that boy always wait until the last minute to get ready? she wondered. Ann looked over at Pam, who was patiently waiting at the kitchen table. Her gym bag had been packed since last night. And this morning she’d been ready to leave for at least 40 minutes. Finally, Aaron came flying down the stairs. “Okay! I’m all set,” he called out. “About time,” Pam muttered. It was a beautiful Saturday morning. Both the boys’ and girls’ track teams were heading to Newport for an afternoon

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meet. Ann backed the car out of the driveway. “I’m sorry that your dad and I can’t come to today’s meet,” she said. “But we’ll be cheering for you at the next one.” Aaron shrugged. “That’s okay, Mom,” he said. “I don’t think that I can win today anyway.” Ann playfully nudged her son in the ribs. “Well, you certainly won’t win with that attitude!” she said. “Doesn’t your coach teach you to think positively?” “Yeah, he does,” Aaron answered. “But I’m just trying to be realistic. The kid I’m racing today is one of the best runners in the state. His quarter-mile time is a full five seconds better than mine.” “Our coach says that we shouldn’t be concerned about who we race against,” Pam said. “She says that track athletes should always compete against themselves.” “That’s what I plan to do,” Aaron agreed. “I’m going to try to do my personal best today. But it’s sort of discouraging to

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know that even if I do, I still can’t win.” “Who knows what might happen? Maybe the other guy will trip and fall,” Pam said with a laugh. “Very funny,” Aaron answered. “What about you, Pam?” Ann asked. “How do you think you’ll do today?” “Pretty good in the 100, I think,” Pam replied. “But I slow down some in the 200.” “Perhaps you need to get in better shape,” Ann said with a wink. “Well, maybe the coach won’t make me run the 200 today,” Pam said hopefully. The bus was waiting at the curb as Ann pulled onto the school grounds. After saying goodbye to their mother, Aaron and Pam joined their teammates, who were lining up by the bus. As the kids climbed aboard, the coaches checked off names on their clipboards. Finally, both coaches boarded the bus, too. “Everyone’s here,” Coach Fuller said to the driver. “Let’s go.”

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The town of Newport was just over the state line. The ride would take about an hour. Scheduled to start at 1 o’clock, the meet would last about three hours. The team should arrive back in Rockdale about 5:00 P.M. The two coaches sat together in the front seat of the bus. For a while they tried to have a conversation. But it was difficult to be heard over the noise of 45 lively high school students. Miss O’Brien, the girls’ coach, chuckled. “This is certainly a happy group,” she commented. Mike Fuller coached the boys. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess no one is too worried about performing in today’s meet.” When the bus pulled up to Newport’s athletic field, Coach O’Brien stood up. “Listen up, kids,” she said. “The meet starts in 45 minutes. Get changed, do some stretching, and get yourselves warmed up.” The teams were fairly evenly matched. Pam led the Rockdale girls to victory. She

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won the 100-yard dash and took a thirdplace ribbon in the 200. Pam also ran the anchor leg in the 400yard relay race. She was five yards behind when she took the baton. Then she ran like the wind, passing Newport’s runner with 10 yards to go! The race was very close, but Rockdale was the winner. The boys’ team didn’t fare so well. They lost seven out of 10 events. As expected, Aaron came in second in the quarter-mile race. But he had knocked one full second off his previous best time. Pam told him that he should be proud. After all, he’d run his fastest quarter-mile to date. Having his sister’s support made Aaron feel better about the team’s loss. Shortly after 4 o’clock the team was boarding the bus for the trip back to Rockdale. Again, the coaches checked off names to be sure that none of their athletes were left behind. By 5:00, parents of the Rockdale

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athletes had gathered at the school, awaiting the team’s return. But another hour passed, and the bus had still not arrived. “I wonder what’s keeping them,” parents were saying to each other. “Maybe the bus had engine trouble,” one parent suggested. Ann spoke up. “Or maybe they just got a late start from Newport,” she said. “I’ll call Newport High School on my cell phone. Maybe someone there can tell me what time the bus left.” Ann stepped aside to make the call. As she talked her face took on a concerned, puzzled look. “What did you find out, Ann?” one of the mothers asked. “The bus left Newport a little past 4 o’clock,” Ann replied. “No one has had a radio call from the driver about a breakdown. And the police haven’t had a report of an accident.” When the bus was a full two hours overdue, worry was turning to panic. The

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state police were notified. Troopers were assigned to search off the main route between Newport and Rockdale. Police officers in both towns checked all possible back roads. But nothing turned up— absolutely nothing! The bus was now more than three hours overdue. The authorities were stumped. It was a baffling mystery. How could a bus with more than 50 passengers simply disappear without a trace?

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CHAPTER 2

The Demands Fear and panic gripped the town of Rockdale as the night passed with no sign of the kids. Parents were demanding that the police do something. By morning, Roy Bell, the Rockdale police chief, felt that he had no choice: He called in the FBI. The state police set up a command post in the town hall. Along with parents, many concerned citizens traveled and re-traveled the roads between Newport and Rockdale. But so far there wasn’t a clue. No one had any idea where the bus was, who intercepted it, or why. That evening a note was dropped off at the Rockdale Police Station. The envelope was addressed To the Chief. Roy Bell opened it and read the message aloud: 12

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Dear Chief, We have the kids from your bus. They are safe and well for now. We will take care of them for 4 days (96 hours). That’s how much time you have to meet our demands. You are to gather two million dollars in used, unmarked bills (no bill higher than a twenty). Within 24 hours we will contact you. Once we have the money you will be advised where to find your kids. To prove that we have the bus, we’ve enclosed some of the kids’ student ID’s. We are not playing games with the citizens of Rockdale. If the parents ever expect to see their kids alive again, the authorities must follow these instructions

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to the letter. Roy shuddered as he read the note. He didn’t believe they could take a risk. They’d have to pay the ransom and take a chance that the kidnappers would honor their promise. The chief’s only hope was that the kidnappers might make a mistake. At 8:00 the next morning, the town hall was overflowing with Rockdale’s leading citizens. FBI and state police personnel were also there. First, Roy read the ransom note. Then he said, “We’re all doing everything we can to find the children. Still, I think we should have the money ready. If our continued search is unsuccessful, we must be prepared to go along with their demands.” No one gave him an argument. The safety of the kids on the bus was everyone’s major concern. After the meeting broke up, Paul Barclay stayed behind to talk with Roy Bell. The two men had been friends for

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many years. “You know, Roy, that Pam and Aaron are on that bus. I’d like to help in any way that I can.” “I know you would, Paul,” Roy replied. “But right now there isn’t anything you can do. Just be patient and let us do our jobs. If I come up with something I’ll call you.” Frustrated and dejected, Paul headed back to his car and drove home. Maybe the best thing that I can do for now is to look after Ann, he thought. She’s taking this very hard. Shortly past noon Chief Bell needed a little fresh air. Feeling hungry, he walked down the street to a small deli for a sandwich. While waiting for his order, he heard the phone ring. “It’s for you, Chief,” the man behind the counter called out. Roy picked up the phone and said, “Bell here.” The voice on the other end was gruff. “Have you got the money?” Roy was startled. How did they know where he was? These people must be

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watching me, he thought. And they’d been smart enough to call him at the deli— where no trace could be put on the call. “Yes, we have the money,” he answered. The raspy voice on the other end of the phone line spoke quickly. “Good. Now listen carefully. Behind the police station you’ll find a blue duffle bag. It’s near the stand of birch trees. Put the money in the bag. Then, get some citizen in town to deliver the money. Do not use anyone who’s connected with the police force. Do you understand?” “Yes, I understand,” Chief Bell replied. The harsh voice continued speaking. “At exactly 5:00 this afternoon I’ll call the station with instructions for the courier. Don’t waste time trying to trace that call. I’ll only be on the phone for a few seconds. Once I have the money you’ll be told where the kids are. And I’m warning you again, Chief—no tricks. Remember that the kids are fine now—but they may not be in

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another day or two.” A loud click told Roy that the caller had disconnected. Forgetting all about his sandwich, he rushed back to the station house. Sure enough, he found a blue duffle bag behind the building. After bringing it into his office, the chief called in several of his officers. Next he placed a call to Paul Barclay. “I do have a job for you after all, Paul. Can you get down here right away?”

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CHAPTER 3

The Switch Paul walked into the police station about 30 minutes later. Roy was meeting with about 40 of his men in the conference room. The officer at the desk greeted Paul. “The Chief is expecting you, Mr. Barclay. I’ll go get him.” As soon as he saw Roy’s face, Paul blurted out, “Here I am! What do you need me to do, Roy?” “Well, Paul,” Roy replied, “we’ve heard from the kidnappers. They’ll be calling at 5:00 today with instructions for delivering the ransom. They want a civilian, not a police officer, to be the courier.” The Chief paused and looked Paul straight in the eye. “Will you do this for us,

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Paul?” he asked. “There may be danger involved.” “You know I will,” Paul said without hesitation. The Chief nodded his head. “Good,” he said. “Come in and meet the rest of the team now. Then we’ll go over our plan.” As they entered the conference room Roy said, “Many of you already know Paul Barclay. He’s just volunteered to act as our courier.” Paul looked around the room. He saw many familiar faces in the crowd. Nodding at his acquaintances, he sat down. Chief Bell continued with his meeting. “I suspect that the kidnappers won’t give us a delivery site on the first phone call— they never do. They’ll probably make Paul go to several different places first. But you officers will be spread out all over town. With any luck, some of you will be close to the drop site. “And,” the Chief continued, “Paul will

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be wearing a wire.” At that he turned to Paul. “That way you can let us know just as soon as you’re told where to leave the money. The little microphone on your coat collar will transmit up to four miles.” When the meeting ended, the officers quickly left the room. They were eager to change into civilian clothes and take their appointed spots in town. Now Paul had nothing to do but wait. Roy attached the small transmitter to the underside of Paul’s collar. Then he tested it to make sure it was operating properly. The blue duffle bag with two million dollars in unmarked bills was at Paul’s feet. Sipping coffee, the two old friends waited for the 5 o’clock phone call. On the dot of 5:00 the phone rang. “Go to the phone booth on the corner of Main and Elm streets. Be there in 10 minutes. Walk, do not drive, and come alone.” Roy looked at Paul. “Well, they were true to their word,” he said. “We had no

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time to make a trace. You’d better get going, Paul. It will take you eight or nine minutes to reach that phone booth.” Paul grabbed the blue bag. As he left the station Roy called out, “Good luck!” Paul’s mind was racing as he walked down Main Street. Were the kids okay? Would the police be able to catch these bums who’d stooped to kidnapping children? Were the kidnappers watching him right now? At the moment there were no answers to any of these questions. Paul entered the phone booth on the corner of Main and Elm just as the phone rang. “Hello,” he said. “So far, so good,” the gruff voice instructed. “Now head up Elm for two more blocks. Then wait for a call at the phone booth next to Carl’s Warehouse.” “Now they’re sending me up to a phone booth by Carl’s Warehouse,” Paul whispered discreetly into the small microphone.

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“Just as I suspected,” Roy replied. “Hang in there, Paul. I’ve got 40 officers out there ready to back you up.” Paul found that the next phone booth was attached to the wall of the warehouse. He waited just 20 seconds before the phone rang. “Yes,” he answered. Paul’s body stiffened as he heard the caller’s first words. “We know you’re wearing a wire. But the police must not find out that we know,” the voice threatened. “Do you understand how important this is?” Paul had difficulty controlling his voice. “Yes, I understand,” he finally said. “Good,” the sinister voice continued. “Next, I want you to put the duffle bag down by the back wall of the phone booth.” Paul did as he was told. “Now we’re going to have a friendly little chat about your next move,” the caller said. “Don’t look down while we’re

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having this chat. Just pretend that nothing is happening, okay?” Paul couldn’t help it. As he glanced down at his feet, the bottom panel of the phone booth was being pulled aside. Just behind it was an opening into the warehouse! Then hands appeared and pulled the duffle bag back through the hole. Moments later an identical bag was placed at Paul’s feet and the panel was slipped back in place. Paul understood what was happening immediately. But he didn’t know what to do about it. “Now I want you to go to the Burger King on Middle Street,” the voice went on. “Take your time—about 30 minutes should do it. When you get there, you’re off the hook. Once we’re in the clear, we’ll call the station with the location of the kids. But listen to me very carefully—if we don’t get our 30 minutes, you don’t get your kids back. Now get going.”

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Paul knew that anything he said would be overheard. He couldn’t figure out a way to alert Roy without endangering the kids. So, as he began to trudge down the street, he whispered into the microphone, “My next stop is the Burger King on Middle Street.” A half-hour later, Paul arrived at the Burger King. Burning with frustration, he shouted, “Roy, it’s a trick! They got the bag of money back at the last stop. They’re long gone by now.” Moments later a police car skidded into the Burger King parking lot. When Paul climbed in, the cruiser sped back to the police station.

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CHAPTER 4

Rescue Roy Bell was furious. They’d been had big-time! Officers had swarmed over the phone booth at Carl’s Warehouse. But there was no reason to think that would help. Worse yet, it was now 8:00 P.M. and there’d been no phone call. No one had any idea of what to do next. Then the phone rang. The desk sergeant said, “Rockdale Police.” “Listen carefully,” a gruff voice said. “The missing children are locked in the aft hold of an old freighter. It’s tied up at the end of Pier 4 in Boston Harbor.” Then the phone went dead. The desk sergeant ran into the Chief’s office. “We’ve got them!” he shouted.

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**** Since Boston was 75 miles away, Chief Bell immediately called the Boston Police. Several officers were at the pier in a matter of minutes. Sure enough, the rusting hull of an old ship was moored at the end of Pier 4. It had been sitting there empty for the past couple of years. The harbor master’s plan was to tow it into deep water where it would be sunk. There, in 15 fathoms of water, it would serve as an artificial reef for undersea life. But for the moment it was serving as a prison for nearly 50 young people. As soon as the police boarded the ship they knew they were in the right place. Below deck someone was banging on the steel hull. The aft hold cover was secured by a large padlock. Within minutes a pair of heavy bolt cutters snapped the lock. When the cover was pulled open, the police officers looked down in shock. The passengers from the missing bus

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were staring up at them. Some of the kids were cheering, others were crying. After spending 48 hours in the cold, damp hull, all of them were dirty and disoriented. The officers went to work immediately. Within 30 minutes, all the passengers had been transported to local hospitals for examination. The good news traveled fast. The children had been found—and all of them were safe and well! Parents quickly formed caravans of cars. Intent on reclaiming their children, they sped toward Boston. **** The next morning the command center at town hall was a beehive of activity. Of course everyone was grateful that the children were safe. Yet still, a terrible crime had been committed. And the criminals had gotten away with two million dollars! Now the police focused on capturing the kidnappers and recovering the ransom. They searched the ship at Pier 4.

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The bus had been driven into a huge shipping container and then trucked to the ship. Amazing! But the evidence was right before their eyes: Both the bus and the shipping container were still in the ship’s hold. First the bus driver and the two coaches were questioned by the authorities. Before interviewing the students, investigators had decided to start with the adults. One of the FBI inspectors asked most of the questions. “Suppose we start with you, Mr. Fuller. Can you tell us exactly what happened after the track meet ended?” Coach Fuller nodded. Then, frowning in concentration, he said, “There isn’t much to tell, really. We boarded the bus as we usually do. Miss O’Brien and I were standing outside the door. We checked off names to make sure no one got left behind. When all the kids were aboard, I climbed in. But before the driver could shut the door, two men jumped in after

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me. I don’t know where they came from. They seemed to just appear out of nowhere.” “Can you describe those men?” the inspector prodded. “Well, they both wore ski masks so we couldn’t see their faces,” Fuller replied. “I guess they were about medium height and weight. They spoke very little. Both had guns—big ones! One of them pushed me into a seat. Then he grabbed the driver’s public address microphone. He ordered all of us to sit on the floor and be quiet. If we didn’t, he said that he’d shoot me—and, if necessary, Miss O’Brien, too.” “What about the other man?” the inspector asked. “He had his gun pointed at our driver,” Coach Fuller said. “He told the driver where to go. But I was sitting on the floor, remember? I couldn’t see the road, so I’m not sure where we went.” “What happened next?”

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“We drove for maybe 15 minutes. Then it felt like we went up a little ramp. That’s when everything got dark. I didn’t know it at the time, but we were driving into a gigantic shipping container on the back of a truck.” “Well,” said one of the state police officers, “that explains it. Now we know how the bus got all the way to Boston Harbor without being detected!”

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CHAPTER 5

Pam Remembers During the next two days investigators questioned everyone who’d been on the bus. But it was all for nothing. Not one piece of information came out that provided a real clue. Task force members carefully inspected everything connected with the case. They dusted for fingerprints and even carefully documented tool markings on the phone booth’s sliding panel. These guys are very smart, Roy thought. We’ve got to be even smarter if we’re going to catch them. Crime scene investigators went over the bus and shipping container with a finetoothed comb. Yet in spite of all their efforts, the police had little to go on. As

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much as he hated to admit it, Roy began to doubt if the case would ever be solved. For some of the students the abduction had already begun to fade to nothing more than a bad dream. For others, it remained a horrible nightmare. To assist with the more serious cases, extra counselors were added to the school staff. Aaron and Pam seemed to be coping with the experience fairly well. They were slowly but surely getting back to their normal routines. Rarely did either one mention the kidnapping. Nonetheless, Paul and Ann kept watching the kids for signs of emotional problems. But despite the terrifying experience, both teenagers seemed to be doing fine. That evening Paul and Ann were watching the 11 o’clock news on TV. They were surprised to see that Pam had gotten out of bed and come downstairs. “What’s the matter, honey? Are you having trouble falling asleep?” Ann asked.

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“I was just dreaming about being on the bus,” Pam replied. “In my dream I remembered something I should have told the police. It’s probably not important— but they did say that even the littlest thing might help.” “What is it?” Paul asked as he turned off the television set. Pam perched on the edge of the sofa. “Well, it happened just before the two men climbed the ladder to leave the ship. One of them turned to the other and said, ‘Come on, mate.’ I remember thinking that ‘mate’ was an unusual expression. But as I said, it’s probably nothing.” “Maybe, maybe not,” Paul replied thoughtfully. “Let’s stop by the police station on the way to school in the morning. You can tell Chief Bell about it and let him decide.” Ann looked at her watch. “Okay, young lady,” she said. “You’d better get to bed or you’ll never get up in the morning.” So

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Pam kissed her mother and headed back up the stairs. Early the next morning Paul brought Pam to the police station. When they sat down in the Chief’s office, he nodded at her. “Okay, honey,” Paul prompted. “Tell Chief Bell what you told me last night.” As Pam repeated what she’d heard, Roy Bell listened intently. Then he thanked her for coming in with this new information. As the Barclays were about to leave, he stopped Pam. “Will you do something for me, Pam?” he asked. “I’d like to keep this information just between us.” “Yes, sir,” Pam replied. Then Paul spoke up. “I’m going to drop Pam off at school now, Roy. But I’ll stop back to visit—if you’ll have a cup of coffee ready for me.” Roy smiled and said, “You bet, Paul.” A half-hour later the two men met again in Roy’s office. “What do you think, Roy? Does Pam’s information help at all?”

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“I’ve been thinking about that since you left,” Roy answered. “Pam is right. The word ‘mate’ isn’t a very common expression here in this country. But men in Australia or New Zealand call each other that all the time.” “Do we know anybody in town who came from Australia?” Paul asked. “I don’t think so,” Roy replied. “But if there is we’ll find him. I’ve already talked with the school principal. He’s pulling the background sheets from all the teachers’ files.” Paul looked surprised. “Gee, Roy,” he said with concern. “I’d hate to think that one of our teachers was involved!” “Me, too,” Roy agreed. “But we have to start somewhere.” Early that afternoon, one of the officers came into Chief Bell’s office carrying a large box. Inside the box were 62 individual folders. Each folder provided both personal information and the job

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history of a staff member at the school. The Chief hadn’t told anyone about what Pam had said. He knew it was a real long shot. Most likely it wouldn’t amount to anything. But it seemed wise to keep this clue to himself for a while. Roy took the folders home with him that evening and spent hours going through them. It was close to midnight when something caught his eye. He was studying the information on Ken Goodman—the 49th folder in the box. Mr. Goodman was a shop teacher who’d started working at the school four years ago. He was 38 years old and unmarried; nothing unusual about that. But what jumped out at Chief Bell was the fact that Goodman had been born and raised in Sydney, Australia.

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Two Suspects Targeting a suspect because of his birthplace was a real long shot. But it was better than nothing—which was what the police had now. The next morning Roy assigned two plainclothes police officers to watch Ken Goodman. “I want to know where he goes and who he sees,” Chief Bell told his men. “And don’t let him know he’s being watched. I don’t want him to change his normal routine.” Back in Boston several FBI agents were investigating activities on the waterfront. Heavy equipment must have been used to lift the container and bus onto the ship. They guessed it had probably been a crane. Pier 4 had been inactive for quite a

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while. These days it was only used to tie up old vessels waiting for the scrap heap. Since few people were around, after-dark activity on the pier might easily go undetected. But if a crane had been used, there’d been a crane operator! So police were questioning all licensed crane operators working on the docks. **** The officers watching Ken Goodman didn’t have much to do during the day. He arrived at school shortly before 8:00 A.M. and left at 4:00 P.M. The first two evenings he was being watched, he’d never left his apartment. But on the third evening, he’d driven to a restaurant on the outskirts of town. He was joined there by another man. During dinner the officers observed their heated conversation. But they couldn’t hear what was being said. As the two men finished eating, Agent Jones turned to Agent Burns. “The Chief is going to want

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to know who that other guy is,” he said. “I’ll follow him out to the parking lot and get his license plate number. You stay here with Goodman.” **** Paul’s birthday was just two weeks away. In shop class Aaron had been building a small bookcase as a gift for him. Now he was worried that it wouldn’t be finished in time. So he asked permission to finish his project after school. “I don’t see why not,” his teacher had replied. One afternoon Aaron was waiting for a coat of varnish to dry. To pass the time he asked Mr. Goodman, “Do you think the police will ever catch the kidnappers?” “I sure hope so,” the shop teacher answered. “But from what I hear, they don’t have any good clues.” “Oh, I heard they’ve been working on some new idea lately,” Aaron replied. Mr. Goodman looked interested. “How do you know that?” he asked.

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“Chief Bell and my father are good friends,” Aaron replied. “I overheard them talking on the phone. But I have no idea what the new idea is.” Ken Goodman looked puzzled. “I wonder what it could be,” he said. **** Officer Jones had followed Goodman’s dinner companion out into the parking lot. After taking down the license number, he watched him climb into a blue car and drive off. Then Jones went back in the restaurant to check with his partner. The FBI’s background checks on crane operators working on the waterfront had turned up nothing. Each man had a solid alibi for the night of the hijacking. If a crane was used to move the bus, it had to have been operated by someone else. At a dead end, Roy and other team members sat in his office. Roy had just explained how Pam’s clue had led to Ken Goodman. “I know it isn’t much to go on.

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But I have a couple of men tailing him anyway. Last night Goodman met another man for dinner. So right now we’re running a check on that guy’s license plate.” The meeting was interrupted by Roy’s phone ringing. “Chief,” said an excited voice on the other end, “we just got an identification on that license plate.” “Yeah? What is it?” Roy asked. “The car is owned by a Nick Goodman. The interesting thing is that he works as a crane operator at the lumberyard. And he has the same last name as the teacher. I bet they’re brothers!” Roy Bell smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said enthusiastically. “Pull the surveillance on Goodman. I think we’ve got what we need.”

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CHAPTER 7

Aaron’s Mistake The next afternoon Aaron was finally putting the last coat of varnish on his bookcase. Mr. Goodman was admiring it. “You did a nice job on that project, Aaron,” he said. “I think your father will be very happy with it.” “Thanks,” Aaron replied with a grin. “It took me a lot of time to get it right.” “Speaking of your father—has he heard any more about how the police are doing on the case?” Mr. Goodman asked casually. “Oh, yeah!” Aaron replied. “And I found out that the best clue came from my own sister. Can you believe that?” “Wow! That’s interesting, Aaron,” Mr. Goodman said. He was being careful to

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appear only mildly interested. “What was the clue, anyway?” “Something that she heard one of the guys say,” Aaron muttered, as he put a few finishing strokes on the bookcase. “I think he referred to his partner as ‘mate’. No one around here uses that expression, you know. So the investigators are looking into people’s backgrounds.” Ken Goodman’s face turned white. He tried to speak—but no words would come out. He needed time to think. Aaron didn’t notice the change in his teacher. Glad to be finished, he put the can of varnish away, cleaned his brush, and headed for the door. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Goodman,” he called out as he waved goodbye. An hour later Ken Goodman placed two calls from his apartment. The message he left was the same in both cases. “We’ve got to talk. Meet me at the restaurant tonight at 7 o’clock.”

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When Ken Goodman walked into the restaurant a little past the hour, two men were waiting for him. As he took a chair, his brother Nick said, “So what’s the big emergency?” “We’ve got a problem,” Ken replied. “The police are checking into people’s backgrounds. It’s only a matter of time before they find out that you and I are from Australia.” Joe Peters, the third member of the group, spoke up. “So what?” he scoffed. “What does that prove?” “Well, it seems that some kid on the bus overheard one of us use the term ‘mate.’ Since it’s an uncommon expression in the States, the police are looking for an Australian.” Joe Peters’ face grew red. He was having a hard time trying to control his anger. “You’re both fools!” he cried out in disgust. “We pull off the perfect crime. Then you guys blow it with some stupid

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expression you use back home!” “Look, Joe, what’s done is done,” Ken said. “I don’t know if I said it or Nick did. It doesn’t matter. The question is, what do we do now?” “I can tell you one thing for sure,” Nick snorted. “We can’t wait around for the next six months as we’d planned. I think we should split up the money now. Then we have to get out of here, ASAP!” “Maybe you can’t hang around, but I can,” Joe said. “I’m not from Australia. The only thing connecting me to the kidnapping is the two of you.” Ken and Nick looked at each other. Both men were trying to decide if Joe’s last comment was a threat. “Let’s split the money tonight,” Joe went on. “Then you two can do whatever you want—but I’m staying right here.” Joe lived in the last house on a deadend street. A heavy steel vault had been installed in his basement. He’d been using

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it to store his hunting rifles and some valuable silver he’d inherited from his father. Now the duffle bag was inside the vault, too. The kidnappers had agreed to keep it there for six months. The three thieves had never trusted each other. So they’d made a plan to insure that any one of them couldn’t run off with the money. Three heavy duty titanium padlocks had been used to secure the vault. And each man held a key to one of the locks.

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CHAPTER 8

On the Lam It was almost 9 o’clock when they entered Joe’s basement. Each man opened one of the padlocks, and the heavy vault door swung open. As they were dividing the stacks of money, Nick commented, “Almost $700,000 each. That’s not bad for a night’s work.” Joe studied his partners’ faces. “Not bad if you don’t get caught. Do you guys have any idea where you’re going?” “Not yet,” Ken answered. “Why don’t you come back to my place, Nick? Once we’re there we can go over our options.” “Just one more thing before we say goodbye,” Joe snarled. “If you guys get caught, you’d better not rat me out. If you

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do, I promise that you’ll regret it.” As Ken and Nick drove off, Joe Peters was worried. I just don’t trust those two guys, he thought to himself. **** Roy Bell pondered his next move. He could pull Ken and Nick Goodman in for questioning. But the evidence against them was still pretty thin. No, he thought, as long as they don’t know we’re checking on them they won’t be going anywhere. Little did Roy know that Aaron had accidentally spilled the beans. Meanwhile, Ken and Nick debated their situation. “I’ll feel a lot safer once we’re out of this country,” Ken said. “I will, too,” Nick said. “What if we left now and drove all night? We could be in Toronto, Canada, by morning.” Ken thought about it. “That’s not a bad idea,” he said. “Toronto is a big city. It shouldn’t be hard to disappear there.” “Well, let’s do it, then.”

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Ken nodded. “Okay, it’s settled. Go home, Nick, and pack your things. I’ll do the same. I’ll come by to pick you up in about an hour.” On his way out the door, Nick looked back at his brother. “Canada, huh? Do you speak any French?” he asked with a laugh. **** The next morning Roy met again with other members of the task force. Regular meetings were important since so many different departments were involved. He quickly brought the others up to date on his own department’s activities. “We’ve identified two brothers in town who were born and raised in Australia. One of them is a crane operator. Of course, that alone doesn’t prove a thing. That’s one reason we haven’t questioned them yet.” One of the FBI agents spoke up. “I think it might be smart to bring them in for a talk right away. At the very least we can find out if they’ve got any kind of

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an alibi for the date of the kidnapping.” Another agent agreed. “Let’s go for it, Chief. If these two guys are innocent, the sooner we know it the better.” “Okay,” Roy said. “I was concerned about alerting them too soon. But I’ll have a couple of my men pick them up now.” The two officers arrived at the high school an hour later. They were surprised to find that Ken Goodman hadn’t reported for work this morning. “I’m worried,” the principal said. “Ken didn’t call in sick, and no one is answering his phone.” “Has Mr. Goodman been a reliable employee?” asked one of the officers. “Very,” the principal replied. “I don’t think he’s missed a day of school in more than two years.” At the Midtown Lumberyard the situation was the same. Nick Goodman hadn’t shown up for work, either. And he hadn’t called in sick. The investigators radioed the information about the

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Goodman brothers back to the station. Roy didn’t like the looks of it. He immediately ordered his officers to check out the residences of both men. “I’ll meet you at Ken Goodman’s place in half an hour,” the Chief said. “And I’ll bring a search warrant with me.” Roy’s mind was racing as he drove to Goodman’s apartment. Did the suspects know that the police had been watching them? Who had tipped them off?

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CHAPTER 9

A Third Suspect The superintendent at Ken Goodman’s apartment complex was reluctant to cooperate. “I can’t let you in while the tenant is away,” he told the police. “Look, we have a search warrant,” one officer said. “So we’re going in one way or another. You can either open the door for us or we’ll be forced to break it down.” The thought of having to repair a broken door made the superintendent change his mind. He produced a key and quickly unlocked the door to Ken Goodman’s unit. Roy and his officers looked around. It was evident that the tenant had made a hasty departure. All the bureau drawers

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had been emptied and left ajar. “Ken Goodman must have packed rather quickly,” Roy muttered out loud. One of the officers pointed to a closet in the hall. “Look here, Chief,” he said. The closet was also empty. No coats or jackets—everything had been cleaned out. The situation was the same at Nick Goodman’s apartment. “I don’t think this guy plans on coming back,” one of the officers remarked. “That’s sure the way it looks,” his partner agreed. An All Points Bulletin (APB) was put out on both men. The police didn’t know if the men had fled separately or were traveling together. And if they were together, which car were they using? The APB included the make and year of each man’s automobile. Other questions also racked Roy’s brain. The main one was: How much of a headstart did they have? **** Hours earlier Ken and Nick had passed

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through Canadian customs without a problem. There was nothing unusual about two American citizens visiting Canada for a few days. Using phony identification, they’d checked into a medium-priced motel in Toronto’s theater district. Since credit card receipts could be checked, the Goodman brothers were paying cash for everything. “You know what I think we should do next?” Nick asked. “No, what?” “I think it would be smart to change our appearance.” “What exactly have you got in mind?” Ken asked. Nick shrugged. “You know, dye our hair, grow a beard, wear a wig—anything to make us look different,” he said. “There’s no doubt the police are going to be looking for us. Why should we make it easy for them?” “You’ve got a point,” Ken agreed.

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**** The various law enforcement officers back at the Command Center were not a happy group. There was still no hard evidence linking the Goodman brothers to the kidnapping. But the fact that they’d fled in the middle of the night changed everything. It made both of them prime suspects. Although no one came out and said it, several agents were questioning the Chief’s judgment. He shouldn’t have pulled the tail on Ken Goodman. In hindsight, Roy realized it had been a bad decision. Now he’d just have to make up for it. Roy pondered his options, trying to think of what else he could do. He already had men checking airports, train stations, and bus terminals. But they’d found nothing so far. Then, out of the blue an idea came to him. Something—or someone—had warned the Goodmans that they were

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suspects in the case. That would explain their hasty flight. Maybe their phone records would be helpful. It was another long shot—but at this point Roy Bell had nothing to lose! Two hours later he was studying Ken Goodman’s recent phone record. The day before he’d disappeared, he’d made two calls. One was to his brother Nick, and the other was to a man named Joe Peters. Ah, this just might be the third man! Roy thought. We always knew someone else had been involved. They’d needed another man to drive the truck. Maybe this is the guy! Let’s just hope he hasn’t left town, too!

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Help From the North Evidence now pointed to Joe Peters as the likely accomplice in the hijacking. On that basis, a search warrant for his house was issued. When Roy and several of his officers arrived, Joe Peters wasn’t at home. Without hesitating they broke a window in the rear of the house. Then they searched the house from top to bottom. They were disappointed to find nothing that directly tied him to the crime. But the officers were quite interested in something else. There was a large padlocked vault in the basement! “I want to see what’s in this vault,” Roy said. “Get some bolt cutters.”

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But the bolt cutters didn’t do the job. “Chief, this must be a titanium lock,” the officer said. “We’re going to need a cutting torch to get it open.” Roy was frustrated. “Okay,” he said. “Hurry up and get one over here.” About 30 minutes later a mechanic from a local service station arrived with a portable cutting torch. It worked! Even the tough titanium was no match for the hot, blue flame. In minutes, the broken padlock fell to the floor. Roy opened the heavy door and stared in disbelief. Inside was a blue duffle bag containing $634,000 in old bills! “One down, two to go,” he said with a big smile. A couple of officers sat down in the darkened house to await Joe Peters’ return. Two hours went by before a car’s headlights lit up the house. Unaware of what was about to happen, Joe shut off the engine and approached his front door. When he stepped inside he was

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flabbergasted. Three uniformed police officers stepped forward and announced that he was under arrest! Back at the station house, Roy was questioning Joe Peters. “Where are the Goodman brothers?” he asked again and again. “For the tenth time, I don’t know!” Joe Peters growled. “When they left me they hadn’t decided where they were going. Believe me, if I knew I’d tell you. If it weren’t for those two knuckleheads, I wouldn’t be sitting here.” **** About 400 miles to the north, two Toronto police officers were cruising the city’s theater district. Notes about missing automobiles were clipped to their dashboard. Some of the vehicles they were looking for were stolen. Others had been used in various crimes. One of the cars listed was a black sedan with Massachusetts plates.

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“Hold on a minute, Jim,” one officer said. They’d just driven past the parking lot outside a small motel. “What is it?” “There’s a black sedan parked back there with what might be Massachusetts plates,” the officer replied. “I want to check it out.” Jim pulled the cruiser around so its headlights lit up the parked car. His partner compared the car license plate with the one on the APB report. “Bingo!” he exclaimed. Some 30 minutes later Roy Bell was taking a call from the Toronto Police. “We’ve got your missing car up here, Chief. How do you want us to handle it?” “Very carefully,” Roy warned them. “Those two guys are wanted for kidnapping a busload of school kids. Not to mention grand theft. They’re on the run, and they may be dangerous. Take every precaution. If they spot a bunch of

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uniforms around, they’ll be gone in a flash.” “Okay, we’ll pull the uniformed officers and use plainclothes guys to keep an eye on the car. With any luck we’ll have them in custody by the time you can make it up here.” “Thanks for your help,” Roy said. “I’ll be there first thing in the morning—along with a couple of my men.” At promptly 9 o’clock the next day Chief Bell and two detectives walked into Toronto Police Headquarters. Inspector Degas came out to greet them. “Welcome to Canada,” he said. “Please tell me that you have them in custody,” Roy Bell said hopefully. “But of course,” Degas answered with a laugh. “I’d like to tell you our brilliant police work brought them in. But, actually, they fell right into our lap.” “What do you mean?” Roy asked. “They came out of the motel to go to

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dinner. When they unlocked their car, my men arrested them. One of them cried out, “Oh, no, the car! We forgot about the car!” “I guess we can thank heaven for APBs,” Roy said with a smile. “They’re all yours, Chief,” Degas said. “And don’t forget the money. When we searched their motel room, we found more than a million dollars in small bills. That must be your missing ransom.” “Thank you, Inspector Degas,” Chief Bell said as he shook the man’s hand warmly. “We sure appreciate all your help. I hope we get a chance to return the favor sometime.” “That could always happen, Chief,” Degas said with a grin. “Every now and then one of our Canadian criminals decides to try his luck down south.” **** Joe Peters and the Goodman brothers are presently in jail awaiting trial.

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COMPREHENSION QUESTIONS Who and Where? 1. Where was Aaron and Pam’s track meet held? 2. Who came in second in the quartermile sprint? 3. Where was the ransom money picked up? 4. Who gave the police the tip they needed to identify the kidnappers? 5. To whom was the kidnappers’ ransom note addressed? 6. In what harbor was the old freighter docked?

Remembering Details 1. How much money did the kidnappers demand? 2. What did Chief Bell find behind the police station? 3. What was Ken Goodman’s job, and where did he work?

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4. What piece of heavy machinery lifted the bus into the freighter? 5. What did Aaron make as a birthday gift for his father?

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