Free The Kidnappers by Willo Davis Roberts

yellow cabs in this city. It wouldn’t have to be the same one. Why didn’t you ask what the other driver looked like?”
    For once I caught Mark off base. “I didn’t think of it,” he conceded. “Well, I got the chauffeur’s name and phone number. Let’s call him, and if he isn’t out driving the car maybe we can find out.”
    I suppose I could have stopped him from impersonating an officer this time, but for some reason I didn’t. The real police weren’t likely to tell us the answers even if they knew them. And it seemed important to know.
    Mark had gotten into the swing of being an impersonator by this time, and he sounded like a real detective, running down clues. He wound up this call in triumph.
    â€œGot it! The driver of the car that caused the fender bender with the Groveses’ driver was a big guy with a Greek name the chauffeur couldn’t remember off hand, dark hair, a strong, rather handsome man. Sound like the guy that snatched Willie?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “Well, the guy was dark, but he wasn’t especially good looking.”
    â€œSo what does all of this give us?” Pink wanted to know.
    â€œWe didn’t see the driver of the cab that nearly hit us, so that doesn’t prove anything,” I mused. “But we now know that it wasn’t the kidnap car that kept the Groveses’ chauffeur from getting to school on time.”
    There was a tap on the door, and Mom stuck her head in. “Mark, have you seen—oh, there you are, Joel. I want you to run down and give this list to Ernie, right away, before he leaves. He’s at the service entrance.”
    â€œOkay. Come on, Pink. Then we’ll check in with your mom and see if it’s okay for you to spend the night.”
    â€œShe won’t care,” Pink said, following me out into the hallway. “My sisters are having a slumber party tonight. If I’m gone, they can use my room, too.”
    On the way through the utility room we helped ourselves to a couple more pastries. They sure were good.
    Ernie was in the alley, putting boxes in the trunk of the car. He slammed the lid and looked around as we came out of the building. “Ho. You off to more adventures?”
    â€œNo, just bringing you a list from Mom.” I handed it over. He looked at it and sighed, then stuck it in his shirt pocket.
    â€œCare to come along and help me pack this stuff?” he asked, reaching for the door handle.
    â€œNo, thanks,” I said, and then I saw it. Parked in the alley, maybe twenty feet away.
    The black New Yorker with the fancy emblem on the door.

Chapter Eight
    They call it an alley, but it’s really a one-way street behind our apartment building. On the other side of it is another big apartment complex. Parking isn’t allowed except temporarily for loading and unloading, but there are usually vehicles there, using the service entrances. There are also Dumpsters, and the garbage trucks pass through to empty them. The cars belonging to residents are parked in an underground garage around the corner.
    This afternoon Ernie was preparing to drive off on another errand before he picked up my father. I could tell he didn’t want to do any more stuff for Mom, because if he was late picking up the boss, Father wouldn’t like it much. Still, Ernie didn’t dare insist on doing the errand later, not after Mom had indicated it was urgent.
    There was a silver-colored Mercury Montego on our side of the alley, with no one in it. And another car on the other side where nobody was supposed to stop; the alley was to be kept clear so traffic could move on through. I probably wouldn’t have paid any attention to the car if it hadn’t been stopped in the wrong place.
    My heart seemed to stop in my chest when I really saw it. A black Chrysler New Yorker, and I knew instantly that it was the car Willie had been dragged into.
    I made some kind