Ransom Page 21

  “I was thinking about something tonight. What about a safe house? Is there anywhere you and Sam could go to get away for a few days? We don't need to do that now. We're comfortable with the plan we have in place to protect you. But for instance, if an informant tells us they've added more men, or we get information that things could get out of hand. It would have to be somewhere where no one would think to look for you, where we could spirit you away and hide you.” In some ways, it would be a lot easier than protecting her in the city, although one of the big advantages of keeping her in the city was that it would only take them minutes to get back-up assistance and manpower in an attack or hostage situation. However many men ambushed her, if they did, the police and FBI could have reinforcements there in minutes from all the surrounding police stations. That was an important factor, but Ted always liked to have a backup plan. Fernanda shook her head in answer to his question.

  “I sold all our other houses.” It reminded him again of the incredible story she had told them that afternoon, of Allan losing all their money. It was still hard for him to believe that anyone could be so foolish and so foolhardy as to lose half a billion dollars. But apparently Allan Barnes had done it. And left his wife and kids with literally no money.

  “Any friends or family you could stay with?” She shook her head again. She could think of no one. She couldn't think of a single friend she was still close enough to, to impose on in that way. And she had no other family at all.

  “I'd hate to put anyone else at risk,” she said pensively, but there was no one she could think of anyway, and certainly no one she wanted to admit her circumstances to, neither about their financial situation, nor the potential kidnap. Allan had somehow managed to alienate all their close friends from them, with his vast success and huge show of wealth that in the end had finally made even good friends feel awkward and avoid them. And on the way down from his lofty pinnacle, he didn't want anyone to know it. All that was left now, after his death, were acquaintances she didn't want to confide in. And Jack Waterman, their old friend and attorney. She was planning to tell him what was happening on the weekend, but he had no safe house either. All he did was stay at a hotel in Napa occasionally on random weekends, and he had a tiny apartment in town.

  “It would do you good to get out of here,” Ted said thoughtfully.

  “Sam and I were supposed to go to Napa for the day this weekend. But it's beginning to seem like it would be pretty complicated to orchestrate, unless the police go with us.” And that wouldn't be much fun for her or Jack or Sam, squashed in a car with them.

  “Let's see what happens before that,” Ted said, and she nodded.

  He went in the kitchen to check on his men then, bantered with them for a few minutes, and left at one. And Fernanda walked slowly up to her bedroom. It had been an endless day for her. She took a long hot bath, and was just climbing into her bed, next to Sam, when she saw a man walk past her room and jumped a foot, as she stood shaking next to her bed, in her nightgown, and the man appeared in the doorway. It was one of the policemen, and he stood there with his guns on, as she stood staring at him in her nightgown.

  “Just doing the rounds,” he said comfortably. “You're okay?”

  “I'm fine. Thank you,” she said politely. He nodded and went back downstairs, and she got into bed, still trembling. It was going to be very strange having them there. And as she fell asleep finally, she clung to Sam, and dreamed of men running around her house with guns drawn. She was in a movie. It was The Godfather. Marlon Brando was there. And Al Pacino. And Ted. And all her children. And as she drifted deeper into sleep, she saw Allan coming toward her. It was one of the few times she had ever dreamed of him since he died, and she remembered it vividly in the morning.

  Chapter 14

  When Will and Sam came down to breakfast the next day, Fernanda was making bacon and eggs for the two agents and two policemen sitting at her kitchen table. She set their plates in front of them, and Will and Sam took their places between them. She saw Sam staring at their guns with interest.

  “Are there bullets in them?” he asked one of the men, and the police officer smiled at him and nodded, while Fernanda cooked her children's breakfast. It was more than a little surreal watching four heavily armed men eat breakfast with her children. She felt like a gun moll.

  Sam wanted pancakes, and Will wanted eggs and bacon like the men, so she cooked both. Ashley hadn't woken up yet and was upstairs sleeping. It was still early. Will had to catch the bus at ten o'clock, and she had already discussed with two of the officers whether or not she should go with him to see him off. They thought it was a bad idea and would draw too much attention to the fact that he was leaving. If someone was following her, it was better for her to remain home with the other children. One of the officers was going to take Will to the bus. He had suggested that Will get in the car in the garage, and lie on the back seat, so no one would see that he was leaving. It was a little far-fetched, but she could see that it made sense. So at nine-thirty, she kissed Will good-bye in the garage, he lay down on the back seat, and a few moments later the officer drove out of the garage, and appeared to be driving alone. He had Will wait a few blocks before he sat up, and once he did, they chatted on the way to the bus. He put Will on the bus, with his bag and his lacrosse stick, waited until the bus took off, and waved as though it were his own son. He was back at the house an hour later.

  Peter was in place down the street by then, and saw a man driving Fernanda's car back into the garage. He had seen him leave earlier that morning, and had never seen him come in the night before, as the night shift had all arrived after he left. And this was the only one he'd seen so far. Peter was a little shocked to see a man there so early, which was something he had never seen before. It didn't even occur to him that the man who had driven into the garage was a policeman. Nothing seemed chaotic or out of place. And Peter himself was a little surprised to realize that he was annoyed at her for having a man there with the kids. It seemed irrational even to him, but he hoped he was just a friend, who had arrived early to help her and nothing more. The man left the house at noon, looking unconcerned, and Sam waved to him as he left, as though he were a friend.

  When the new shift arrived that afternoon, there were two male FBI agents, and both police officers were women, so it looked like two couples coming to visit. Peter never saw the other three men go out the back of the house, and cross the neighbor's property, so no one would see them leaving.

  He left that evening before her guests went home. They seemed to stay forever, and Peter saw no reason to stay. He already knew everything he needed to know about her. He also was almost certain that she never put the alarm on. And if she did, Waters was going to cut the wires before they went in. At this point, his surveillance was more out of habit of the past weeks than because he needed to learn anything new about her routine. He knew everywhere she went, what she did, who she went with, and how long it took her. If anything, his watching her now was for his own pleasure and because he had told Addison he would. It was no hardship to do so. He loved being near her, and watching her with her children. It seemed pointless to sit there now while she entertained two couples all day. The two couples had looked benign and friendly when they arrived in one car, talking and laughing. Ted had handpicked them and told them what to wear so they looked like friends. And although Peter had never seen her entertain, she seemed so happy when she greeted them, that it never occurred to Peter for an instant that they were FBI and SFPD. There was nothing to suggest to him that the atmosphere had changed. In fact, he felt sufficiently relaxed that he left early that night before the couples did. He was tired, and there was nothing to see. Other than greeting her guests, neither Fernanda nor the kids had moved all day. He had seen Sam playing in the window of his room, and Fernanda in the kitchen, cooking for her friends.

  The next day was his last day of surveillance. Carlton Waters, Malcolm Stark, and Jim Free were going to stay with him that night. He st
ill had a few things to get for them in the morning, which got him to Fernanda's late. Ashley had already left for Tahoe with her friends, and the shift had changed. By sheer luck, he never saw the cops of the previous shift leave at noon, nor the new ones come in, all through the back door again. And when he left for the last time that night, regretfully, at ten o'clock, he had no idea that there was anyone in the house with her. He wasn't there to see them leave at midnight, and others arrive. In fact, he didn't see Fernanda at all that day, nor her children. He wondered if she was tired from entertaining the day before, or just busy. And as the kids were out of school for the summer, they didn't have to go anywhere, and he suspected they were enjoying their vacation and being lazy. He saw her at the windows in the day, and he had noticed that she had drawn her shades at night. He always felt lonely when he couldn't see her, and as he drove away for the last time, he knew just how much he was going to miss her. He already did. He hoped he'd see her again one day. He couldn't imagine what his life would be like now without her. It saddened him, almost as much as what they were about to do to her. He still felt sick at the thought of it. And worrying about it distracted him from any sense that she and the children were being protected. He didn't repeat it to Addison because he was completely unaware of it. Surveillance was unfamiliar to him.

  Caring about her as he did, he finally forced himself to stop thinking about what it was going to do to her when his associates kidnapped one or all of her children. He couldn't allow himself to continue thinking of it, and forced his mind toward more agreeable subjects, as he drove away that night, and went back to the hotel, thinking of her. When he got there, Stark, Waters, and Free were already waiting for him and wanted to know where he'd been. They were hungry and wanted to go to dinner. He didn't want to admit to them how hard it had been for him to leave her, even if leaving her meant only driving away from a parking space on the street where she lived. He had never admitted to any of them how much he had come to respect and like her, nor how fond he had become of the children.

  As soon as Peter got to the hotel, the four of them went out to dinner. They went to a taco place Peter knew and liked in the Mission. All four of them had been to their parole agents the day before, and as they were on two-week check-in status now, no one would realize they were gone until they were out of the country. Just as Addison had assured him, Peter in turn had assured them that Fernanda would pay the ransom quickly for her children. Presumably within a few days. The three men who would be executing the plan had no reason to disbelieve him. All they wanted out of this was their money. They didn't care about her or her kids, one way or the other. It made no difference to them who they took, or why, as long as they got the money. They had already been paid a hundred thousand each in cash. The balance was to be paid to all four of them out of the ransom. Peter had detailed instructions from Addison as to where she was to transfer the money. It was to be wired into five accounts that could not be traced, in the Cayman Islands, and from those accounts into two in Switzerland for Addison and Peter and three in Costa Rica for the others. The children were to be held until the money was wired and Waters was to warn her at the outset that if she called the police, they'd kill the children, although Peter did not intend to let that happen. Waters was to make the ransom demand, according to the instructions Peter had already given him.

  There was no need for an honor system among the men. The three others still did not know Phillip Addison's identity, and if any of them squealed on the others, they would not only lose their share but be killed, and each of them knew it. The plan appeared to be failsafe. Peter was to leave his hotel the next morning, while the others took whatever kids they got to the house they had rented in Tahoe. He had already booked a motel room on Lombard under another name. The only contact between Peter and the other three men was to be when they had dinner the night before the kidnap, and slept in his hotel room. They had brought sleeping bags and put them on the floor, and Peter got up, dressed, and left when they did, separately, early the next morning. The van was gassed up and ready for them. They picked it up at the garage. They were not yet sure at exactly what time they would make their move. They were going to watch for a short while, and pick their moment while things were still quiet in the house. There was no set time schedule, and no hurry. Peter arrived at his motel on Lombard by the time they got to the garage to pick up the van. He still kept his other room so as not to arouse suspicion. Everything was set up. They had moved the golf bags with the machine guns out of the car into the van. There was rope and plenty of duct tape, and a startling amount of ammo. They shopped for groceries on the way to the garage, and had enough to keep them going for several days. They didn't expect it to last long. They weren't worried about feeding the children. Hopefully, from their point of view, they wouldn't have them long enough to worry much about it. They had bought peanut butter, jelly, and bread for the kids, and some milk. The rest of what they bought was for themselves, which included rum, tequila, a lot of beer, and canned and frozen food, since none of them liked to cook. They had never had to cook for themselves in prison.

  It was the third day of cops and FBI agents in the house, when Fernanda called Jack Waterman early that morning and said that she and Sam had the flu and couldn't go to Napa for the day. She still wanted to talk to him about what was happening, but things were too crazy, and it still seemed too unreal. How could she explain the men camping out in her living room, sitting around the table with holsters in her kitchen? It almost made her feel foolish. Particularly if it turned out to be unnecessary. She was hoping that she'd never have to tell him about it. Jack said he was sorry they both had the flu, and offered to come by on his way to Napa, but she said they still felt too lousy, and she didn't want him to catch it.

  After that, she tucked Sam into bed with her, and put on a movie. She had fed the four men breakfast by then, and she and Sam were cuddling, with his head on her shoulder, when she heard an unfamiliar sound downstairs. The alarm wasn't on, and didn't need to be with two policemen and two FBI agents protecting her. With all that trained protection and armed firepower at hand, the alarm seemed redundant, so she hadn't put it on the night before, or in fact since they'd been there. Ted had told her they could set it off accidentally with the movements of the men going in and out of the back door from time to time to check on things. It sounded as though something had fallen in the kitchen, a chair or something comparable. She didn't worry about it with four men downstairs, and lay there with Sam dozing on her shoulder. Neither of them was sleeping well at night, and sometimes it was easier dozing in the daytime, as Sam did now, in his mother's arms.

  She heard muffled voices then, and footsteps on the stairs. She was just beginning to wonder what was going on and assumed they were coming upstairs to check on them, but didn't want to get up and disturb Sam, when three men in ski masks exploded through her bedroom door and stood at the foot of her bed, pointing M16 machine guns with silencers at them. As Sam saw them, his eyes flew open wide, and he stiffened in his mother's arms, as one of the men came toward them. Sam's eyes were huge with terror, as were Fernanda's, who was praying the men wouldn't shoot them. Even to her untrained eye, she knew they were carrying machine guns.

  “It's okay, Sam… it's okay…” she said softly in a shaking voice, not even knowing what she'd said. She had no idea where the men protecting her were, but there was no evidence of them, and no sound from downstairs. She clutched Sam to her and backed up in the bed, as though it would save her and Sam from the men, as one of them wrenched Sam out of her hands without a sound, and she screamed as he took him from her. “Don't take him,” she pleaded pitifully. The moment they had feared had come, and all she could do was beg him. She was sobbing uncontrollably, as one man held a machine gun on her, and another tied Sam's hands with rope, and put a piece of tape over his mouth, as her son looked wild-eyed at her in helpless terror. “Oh my God!” she screamed as two of them forced Sam into a canvas bag, with hands and feet tied, like s
o much laundry. There were terrified grunts from Sam, and screams from her, as the man closest to her yanked her hair back so hard with one hand, it felt like he had torn it from her scalp.

  “If you make another sound, we'll kill him, and you don't want that, do you?” She could tell that he was powerfully built, in a rough jacket and jeans and work-men's boots. There was a wisp of blond hair peeking from the ski mask. One of the other men was stockier, but powerful as he slung the canvas bag over his shoulder. Fernanda didn't dare move for fear that they would kill Sam.

  “Take me with him,” she said in a shaking voice, and the two men said nothing. They were following orders and had been told clearly not to. She had to stay back to pay the ransom. There was no one else who could do it. “Please… please… don't hurt him,” she begged them, falling to her knees, as all three ran out of the room and down the stairs carrying him, and then she got up and ran down the stairs after them, and on the stairs she suddenly saw footprints in blood everywhere.

  “If you tell the cops or anyone about this, we'll kill him.” She nodded her understanding to the man who had spoken in a voice muffled by the mask.

  “Where's the door to the garage?” one of the men asked her, and she saw blood splashed on his pants leg and his hands. She hadn't heard a single shot ring out. All she could think about was Sam, as she pointed to the door to the garage. One of the men was pointing his machine gun at her, and another tossed Sam to the third one. He slung the bag with Sam in it over his shoulder, and there was no sound and no movement, but she knew that nothing they had done to him so far could have killed him. The heavy-set man spoke to her again then. They had been in Will's and Ashley's bedrooms before they got to her, and hadn't found them.

  “Where are the others?”

  “Away,” she said, and they nodded and ran down the back stairs, while she wondered where the cops were.