Free Jimmy the Kid by Donald E. Westlake Page A

fast.”
    â€œBut the point is,” Kelp said, “you did find an abandoned farmhouse.”
    â€œIt’s a mess,” Murch said. “There isn’t any electricity, and there isn’t any plumbing. There’s a well out back, with a handle thing that you pump.”
    Murch’s Mom nodded. “It’s not like anything in the twentieth century,” she said.
    â€œBut it’s isolated,” Kelp suggested. “Is it?”
    â€œOh, yeah,” Murch said. “It’s isolated, all right. Way to hell and gone isolated.”
    â€œWell, that’s the important part,” Kelp said. Primarily speaking to Dortmunder, he said, “We’ll only be there for a couple days, and the more abandoned and isolated it is the better.”
    Dortmunder said to Murch, “How far is this from where we grab the kid?”
    â€œMaybe twenty miles.”
    â€œAnd how far from the kid’s house?”
    â€œMaybe forty.”
    Dortmunder nodded thoughtfully. “It’s kind of close,” he said.
    Kelp said, “That’s got a big advantage, when you think about it. The cops won’t be looking in that close.”
    â€œThe cops,” Dortmunder told him, “will be looking everywhere. A rich man’s son is gone, they’ll look for him.”
    â€œIf they find that abandoned farmhouse,” Murch said, “I’ll be surprised.”
    â€œWe’ll all be surprised,” Dortmunder said. “Unpleasantly.”
    â€œI’ll tell you something else,” Murch said. “Last night I started reading again the chapter where they do the kidnapping. You know, where they go and grab the kid.”
    â€œChapter eight,” Kelp said. “Page seventy-three.”
    Dortmunder gave him a look. “You memorized it?”
    â€œI’m just careful, that’s all,” Kelp said.
    â€œAnyway,” Murch said, “we got a hell of a lot of stuff we’re supposed to put together for that job. Not just the abandoned farmhouse and the side road and all that, but a lot of stuff , you know.”
    â€œNot that much,” Kelp said. “Just a couple things.”
    â€œNot that much?” Murch started counting them off on his fingers. “A big tractor-trailer rig. A school bus. A car. Guns. Mickey Mouse masks. A detour sign.”
    â€œNone of that is tough,” Kelp said. “I can get the car myself, I’ll borrow one from a doctor.”
    â€œThe tractor-trailer? The school bus?”
    â€œWe’ll pick them up,” Kelp said. “Don’t worry about it, Stan, we can do it. The detour sign I’ll paint myself and bring it along.”
    â€œIt’s a lot of stuff,” Murch said.
    â€œJust don’t worry about it,” Kelp told him.
    May said, “Let’s get back to the boy. How old is he?”
    â€œTwelve,” Kelp told her. “That’s the adventurous age, May. The kid’ll have a ball, it’ll be like living out one of his favorite television shows.”
    â€œI’m beginning to feel sorry for him anyway,” May said, “even if we don’t take him. Living all alone with nobody around but servants, hasn’t seen his mother since he was six years old. That’s no life for a little boy.”
    Kelp said, “So this’ll make a nice change.”
    May stared at him. “To kidnap him? A nice change?”
    â€œWhy not?” Kelp seemed perfectly sincere about it. “A break in the routine, everybody likes that.”
    â€œI just wish I knew,” May said, “what kind of specialist he goes to when he comes to the city.”
    â€œMaybe it’s a speech therapist,” Kelp suggested, “like the kid in the book.”
    Dortmunder plunked his glass down on the table. Exasperated, he said, “How many coincidences you want out of that book?”
    â€œWell, what difference does it make anyway?” Kelp