04 The Laws of Our Fathers by Scott Turow

Author:Scott Turow [Turow, Scott]
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

June called back in fifteen minutes to tell him they wanted ransom.

“You have money. You can pay.”

“I am a university professor. I am a poor man.” I heard that cunning tone I’d listened to at store counters a thousand times, as he criticized quality, the price, hoping for some edge with which to bargain. With a bitter smile, I had predicted exactly what he would do. And even so, something in me crumbled. There was no hope. “What am I to pay? How? You understand. I am not that Weissman.” He went on that way another instant before she interrupted.

“You want to know where your son is now? You have any neighbors with a dog? That’s where your son is. He has a dog’s choke collar around his throat. It’s attached to the fucking wall. His hands are manacled. So are his feet. He sits when we say, he stands when we say. He gets to pee every four hours. Maybe we’ll let him go next year. Maybe the year after. I don’t care. Dog food’s cheap. Do you understand me? Now it’s your choice. If that’s what you want, you just have to say it. That’s Rule Number Two. You tell me what you want. Do you want that? You want us to treat your son like some mangy, flea-ridden, shedding, dogshit-shitting dog we’ll do that. You just say. Is that what you’d like? I want to hear you say that. Come on. Follow the rules.”

I had never heard my father cry before. He emitted a stifled wheeze, then his voice shattered. I bent over completely and covered my head.

“I want $20,000. That’s all. Just twenty. We went into this figuring $2 million. It’s fucked up, okay, but we have expenses. This whole fucked-up operation wasn’t cheap. We have mouths to feed. We have a lot of people who are a lot of disappointed. Okay? And we need time to make some nice new plans. Now either you help us with that or we won’t be helping you. Okay? That’s a rule too. Dig?”

He was crying too hard to answer.

“No police, FBI, kiddie cops. Pinkertons. No one. Okay? We set the conditions,” said June. She nodded as she held the receiver in the wan light of the cheap lamp. I had sunk to one of the beds and could no longer hear him. “You pay this sum and he’s free. Subject to conditions: We don’t get caught. This never happened. That’s how it goes. I don’t trust you, you don’t trust me. So we set the conditions.”

What conditions? he must have asked.

“Next call.” June smacked down the phone. She closed her eyes to grab hold of herself, to find her real life, before she looked down at me.

“It’s going fine,” she said.

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