Jimmy the Kid

Murch's Mom, leaving the phone off the hook, stepped out of the booth and went over to the Roadrunner. She had seen tools on the back seat; yes, there was a nice big monkey wrench. She picked it up, hefted it, and went over to stand in front of the motorcyclists, who were sitting on their throbbing machines, filling their faces with whoppers. She didn't say anything; not that it would have been possible in any event. She stood looking at them. She thumped the monkey wrench gently into the palm of her left hand. She lifted it, thumped it gently again, lifted it, thumped it, lifted it, thumped it.

They became aware of her. Their eyes followed the small movements of the monkey wrench. They looked at one another, and they looked at Murch's Mom's face. Methodically, without any appearance of undue haste but nevertheless efficiently, they stuffed their mouths with the rest of their whoppers, packed their pockets with french fries, tied their Cokes to their gas tanks with little leather straps, and drove away.

Murch's Mom went back to the phone booth. She put down the monkey wrench and picked up the phone. "Hello," she said. "You still there?"

"I'm still here!"

"You don't have to yell," Murch's Mom said. She was being very calm.

"I don't?"

"No. But you have to call that goddam car!"

The Cadillac breezed past the tomato juice bottle with the instructions in it; milk doesn't come in bottles any more, it comes in plastic cartons. Harrington, on the phone, said to his secretary, "Tell him our client's feeling is he can loan him the seventeen, but he'll need some form of security other than the department store. Tell him, off the record, our client is quite frankly worried about that marital situation of his."

"Yes, sir," said the secretary.

"Should be any second now," Murch said.

Dortmunder twisted around and looked back. No suit. case came falling through the air.

The Cadillac sailed past the Hope exit, over the overpass and on, toward the Delaware Water Gap.

Back at the deserted farmhouse, May and Kelp and Jimmy sat at the card table. "Knock with two," Jimmy said, and spread out his rummy hand.

"Ouch," said Kelp.

"I have to get through to that car!"

"When Fm in Washington, we can arrange the meeting with Congressman Henley and then perhaps get a little action."

Murch said, "I think maybe something went wrong."

Dortmunder didn't say anything.

"And if anything else comes up," Harrington said, "you should be able to reach me at home certainly by six o'clock."

"Yes, sir," said the secretary.

Harrington hung up. He said to Maurice, "Nothing's happened yet, eh?"

"No, sir," said the man, who wasn't Maurice at all. That's right; it was the FBI man, Kirby.

"What's that up ahead?" Harrington asked.

"The Delaware Water Gap."

"Oh, really?" Harrington said, and the phone rang. Expecting his secretary to be calling back, he picked it up and said, "Hello?"

Some woman screamed gibberish at him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What the hell are you doing on the goddam phone!"

"What? Oh, for heaven's sake, it's the kidnapper!"

Kirby slammed on the brakes, and the Caddy slued all over the road. Kirby shouted, "Where? Where?"

"Don't drive like that!" Harrington cried. "Maurice never drives like that!"

"Where's the kidnapper?" Kirby had become calmer again, was driving forward, was looking all around without quite acknowledging the glares of the other drivers passing him, the ones he'd just barely missed when he'd braked so abruptly

"On the phone," Harrington said. The woman was babbling away on the phone, rancorous and belligerent, and Harrington said, "I am sorry. I had no idea. If you'd told me, of course, I would have-"

"Where are you?"

"Where am I? Where you told me to be, on route 80."

"But where?"

"Just crossing the Delaware Water Gap," Harrington said. "Isn't that strange. I've lived so close to it for so many years, and I've just never had occasion to travel this way before. It's really quite-"

"The Delaware Water Gap?" You've over-you're way the hell and-you went too far!"

"I did?"

"You've got to come back. Listen, what you do, you turn around and come back, and I'll go get a road map. Come back, don't drive too fast, stay off the goddam phone and I'll call you again."

"All right," Harrington said, and leaned forward to say to Kirby, "We have to go back."

Kirby said, "Do you have a quarter? It's a toll bridge." Murch's Mom left the phone booth and went over to the Roadrunner. She tossed the wrench on the back seat and went through the glove compartment, looking for a road map. Pennsylvania, New York, Delaware, Connecticut, Utah. Utah? No New Jersey.

There was a Mobil station across the highway from the Burger King. Murch's Mom risked life and limb to run across route 46, get a New Jersey map, and run back again. She studied the map, and then called Harrington again. This was costing a fortune; she'd brought almost ten dollars in change, and it might not be enough.

"Hello?"

"Look," Murch's Mom said. "This is very simple, so just do it and don't screw up."