The Abduction

Friday, 8 P.M.

Sergeant Thomas returned to the Yates’ home accompanied by a tall, slim man she introduced as Sergeant Corielli. “Joe

is our expert on electronics. He’s going to set up a listening device which will be connected to your phone. Then, when the

man calls again, we can record his message and at the same time try to trace him. Joe will return in the morning and stay with

you until the next phone call, if you have no objections.”

When Mr. and Mrs. Yates indicated they had no objections Sergeant Corielli went back outside and returned with a large

tool box and the electronic devices he needed to install.

While he was doing the installation Sergeant Thomas brought up the subject of the ransom demand made at the time of

the first phone call. “You mentioned that you can’t access the computer but we would like you to go through the motions as if

you are actually obtaining the formula. You’ll need to go to the lab and come back with some-thing to give him that resembles

the real thing, as a fallback in case he gets back to you before we find him. Can you do that?”

Wilson Yates agreed he could do that and would go to the lab first thing in the morning. “I’ll need to find some way of

getting security to let me in. I don’t suppose you can help me with that?”

“No,” replied Sergeant Thomas. “The kidnappers may have an inside person at the lab, perhaps in security, who would

inform them as soon as it was known the police were involved. You’ll have to make it on your own. We will have someone on

duty outside your house as a precautionary measure. I think you should know we called in the FBI and also that we have

started canvassing the area to see if we can find any witnesses to the abduction.”

Saturday, May 4, 6 A.M.

Sergeant Corielli returned to the Yates’ house with a young police officer as his assistant. Wilson was furious when he

noticed that the young officer was in uniform.

“I don’t want the world to know that we have police in our house,” he remarked.

“My fault,” said the sergeant. “I neglected to tell Pete here to come in civvies.”

The sergeant and his helper set up chairs in front of the listening device Corielli had set up the previous evening. The

patrolman sat down and donned a pair of earphones. Sergeant Corielli made some adjustments with a few knobs until the

younger man nodded his head.

“Okay, we’re ready for his call,” said the sergeant.

Saturday, 7 A.M.

At the old farmhouse the kidnappers were stirring. Pat used a camp stove to prepare some bacon and eggs, and a pot

of coffee. Juke checked Jimmy’s room and found a groggy boy staring sullenly at him.

“I tried to tell you if you behaved things would be easier for you,” Juke told the uncooperative youth.

“Kiss my ____,” Jimmy spat back at him.

“My, such language from a snobby kid.”

A few minutes later Pat brought in a plate with breakfast for Jimmy. As he hadn’t been awake for a meal the previous

evening Jimmy was starved. Realizing he needed to keep up his strength to cope with the predicament he was in he wolfed

the food down as if he hadn’t eaten for a week.

Saturday, 9 A.M.

A police car cruised the route that Jimmy had taken as he walked home from his piano lesson Friday afternoon.

Occasionally it stopped so its occupants could question people they saw along the route, showing them Jimmy’s picture as

they did. The sixth person questioned recognized Jimmy from his picture and stated she had seen Jimmy shortly before 3:30

the previous afternoon.

This gave them a starting point. They now knew that the abduction had taken place between his home and the point

where the person had recognized his picture. They knew also that the abduction had taken place no earlier than 3:30 P.M.

While the police were conducting their investigation Wilson Yates drove to the laboratory of the Sanford Pharmaceutical

Company. He showed his identification card to the security guard at the door and asked to be allowed to enter.

“I’m sorry, sir,” stated the guard. “We have orders that no one is to be admitted except during the hours the laboratory is

open. I’m afraid that includes you, sir.”

Chagrined, Mr. Yates responded, “But it’s imperative for me to get to my desk. I left some important papers there I need

to work on this weekend.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t disobey my orders.”

Wilson was getting desperate. “Please call your supervisor and let me speak to him. I have to get those papers.”

“Okay sir, but I don’t think he’ll admit you either.” The guard called the security office and talked to the supervisor on duty.

“He’ll be here in a few minutes, sir.”

When the security chief arrived Yates convinced him it was absolutely necessary he get some papers from his desk.

“I’ll have to go with you,” said the chief. “And you will have to sign out each document you take so there is a record of

where they are.”

“I understand,” Yates told him.

Accompanied by the security chief Wilson went to his office, opened a desk drawer and pulled out a file folder with the

label “CM24” on he cover. “This is all I need,” he explained.

They next went to the security office where the name of each document in the folder was entered into a computer and

Wilson signed a release form.

Saturday, 11 A.M.

The police talked to the owner of a small convenience store on Yancey Street who knew Jimmy and his parents. “Jimmy

usually stops in here about quarter to four on Friday to buy a candy bar. When he didn’t come yesterday I thought he might be

sick,” said the owner, Mr. Lyle.

With this information the police narrowed the time frame in which the abduction took place. It was now apparent he had

been seized between 3:30 and 3:45, in a section of Yancey Street between the first sighting and the convenience store, a

distance of about four blocks. This area they would re-canvass in depth.

Saturday, 1 P.M.

Each time Jimmy had to use the bathroom he was accompanied by Juke. To be certain he didn’t try to escape through

the bathroom window Pat went outside and stood beneath the window. On one occasion she had been standing there about

ten minutes when she heard a crashing sound from the bathroom. She immediately headed to the kitchen door.and was

about to step inside when the thought occurred to her that perhaps the crash was a ruse to get her away from the window.

She rushed back to her post in time to see Jimmy’s legs appear over the sill. At the same time Juke entered the bathroom

and pulled the struggling Jimmy back inside.

“I’ve got him,” yelled Juke. “Come give him a shot.”

When Pat entered the bathroom with the hypodermic needle she noticed glass all over the floor. As she was injecting the

needle into Jimmy’s buttocks Juke explained. “He broke the mirror on the medicine to get you away from the window but I

was right outside the door so it didn’t work.”

Pat shook her head at this and helped Juke return Jimmy to his room where they once again handcuffed his ankles to the

bed. As soon as they left the room Jimmy opened his eyes. Apparently the shot hadn’t worked properly; either that or Pat

had been careless in administering it. Whatever the reason, Jimmy had faked being unconscious and fooled them

completely.

One other item they had not been aware of was the small section of mirror he had slipped into his pocket. Now, if he

could only get to the window. This proved to be an impossible at the moment; they had not slighted their skills when they

handcuffed his ankles to the bed. He would have to think of something else to attract the attention of the outside world.

Saturday, 3:30 P.M.

It had been 24 hours since Jimmy’s abduction and it appeared to his mother that the police had not made any progress.

She was fearful that she would never see her son again. He husband had called in the family doctor who administered a

sedative to help Mrs. Yates calm her nerves. So far, the sedative had not worked.

Wilson, meanwhile, had put together a packet containing chemical procedures to use as a substitute for the real formula.

The procedures were detailed enough and chemically correct so that it would take a trained chemist working in a well-

equipped laboratory to discover they were fake. This was the best he could do; now he had to wait for the next phone call.

At the same time Jimmy was involved in another escape attempt at the old farmhouse. He had discovered that, although

the sun didn’t shine directly into his room, its rays bounced off a wall to reflect onto his bed. Using the piece of mirror

salvaged from the bathroom he was busy trying to reflect the image from his mirror back through the window. In this way he

might be able to attract someone’s attention.

To hold the mirror at the proper angle Jimmy had to twist his body into an awkward position and then try to focus the ray

as it passed over his shoulder. This proved to be a difficult task. After working at this for almost an hour he gave up and lay

back on the bed to rest. While resting his mind was busy trying to concoct another escape scheme.

Saturday, 5 P.M.

When Wilson Yates answered his telephone the same man who had called the previous day said, “I don’t need to tell you

who I am. Do you have the formula?”

“I have it,” replied Mr. Yates.

“Good, bring it with you immediately to the St. Louis airport. Enter at the American Airlines entrance and turn left. Go to

West Concourse A and follow the directions to Gate 42H. I’ll be watching you. When I’m certain you’re alone and not being

tracked by the police I’ll contact you. I’ll expect you in about 45 minutes.” After concluding these instructions, which were given

very quickly, the caller hung up.

These instructions had been monitored at police headquarters by Lieutenant Simon and Sergeant Thomas. They,

together with the deputy director of the FBI for the St. Louis office, had been holding a conference.

When the call was completed the FBI man, Chandler Pearce, a cleancut, fortyish, former lawyer sprang to his feet and

took a cellular phone from his pocket. After dialing he said, “Suspect to meet victim’s father on West Concourse A, American

Airlines. Locate, but do not apprehend.” He turned to the two police officers and explained his call. “We automatically post

someone at strategic points in emergencies such as this. We have two people at the airport.”

Prior to the interruption caused by the kidnapper’s call the three of them had been bringing each other up to date on the

current status of their phase of the investigation. No more clues had been uncovered since the police talked to Mr. Lyle in the

convenience store that morning. The FBI had agents posted at bus depots, the train station, and at the airport. Not willing to

overlook any possibility, the police were questioning desk clerks at hotels and motels, both in the city and in outlying areas. It

was like looking for a needle in a haystack. So far, they had been lucky in that the local media had not become aware of the

kidnapping. If they were aware, they were keeping a lid on it.

As soon as he hung up the phone Wilson Yates reached for his suit coat in preparation for his trip to the airport. He also

picked up a small briefcase containing the documents he had put together to represent the D16 formula. Before he was able

to leave Sergeant Corielli handed him a small box the size and shape of a package of cigarettes. “When he makes contact

squeeze the packet, this will turn it on. It’s a tracking device, we’ll be able to listen and also trace your location. We have

already dispatched a detective to arrive there ahead of you. She will keep you in sight at all times.”

“Did you say “she?” asked Mr. Yates.

“I did, but don’t try to spot her or you might give her away. Her instructions are to watch and listen but do nothing else.

Other team members will try to follow the man when he leaves."

“I hope they know what they are doing,” replied Yates. He then left and drove to the airport, arriving there about 35

minutes later. After parking his car he walked to the American Airlines entrance and proceeded towards Gate 42H.

As he was strolling along a man brushed by him and muttered, “Go into the next men’s room and enter the first

unoccupied cubicle on the left. I’ll come to the one next to you in a few minutes.”

All of this was said so quickly that Wilson didn’t have time to turn on the recording device. Nevertheless, he followed the

instructions and as he walked towards the men’s room was able to turn it on. As soon as he did he asked a cleaning

attendant where the next men’s room was, hoping this would get the message to the police that he had been told to go there.

He entered the first cubicle and sat there waiting for a message from the one adjacent to him. In a few minutes he heard

movement next to him and the sound of the latch being closed.

The instructions came quickly, “Pass the formula to me.”

“Not until I when and how I get my son back,” he replied.

“You’ll find that out as soon as I test your formula,” the kidnapper answered.

“And how long will that take?” asked a dubious Wilson Yates.

“Three to four days,” was the answer. “Believe me, I have no wish to harm your boy but there is no way I will know if the

formula is authentic without testing it.”

Reluctantly, Wilson passed the briefcase under the partition.

“Wait here three minutes before you leave,” he was instructed.

When Wilson left the cubicle there were two other men in the lavatory, one at a urinal, the other washing his hands. Both

men looked at Yates curiously causing him to realize he hadn’t flushed the toilet. Too bad, he thought, I have more important

things on my mind. Obviously, neither of these men was the kidnapper and he was too embarrassed to ask them any

questions.

When he reached the lobby there were so many people going to and fro it was impossible for him to single out one.

Hopefully, the police had identified the man and were tailing him now. What Wilson didn’t realize was that one of the men in

the restroom was the kidnapper. Sanderson had tucked Yates small briefcase into a larger one and stayed in there to wash

his hands so he could leave after Yates.

Earlier that afternoon Juke had driven Sanderson to the bus depot in St. Louis. From there Sanderson had taken a cab to

the airport. The plan, if he wasn’t under police surveillance, was for him to fly to Chicago immediately after meeting with

Yates. The flight was scheduled to leave St. Louis at 6:07 P.M., which gave him only a few minutes from the time he left the

lavatory to reach the departure gate for his flight. If he was under surveillance he would taxi back to St. Louis and try to shake

his tail there.

Saturday, 8 P.M.

Juke was driving, with Pat sitting in the back next to an unconscious Jimmy. Shortly after driving Sanderson to the St.

Louis bus depot Juke had returned to the old farmhouse. They loaded Jimmy into the car after giving him another shot, then

quickly removed all traces of their stay at the farmhouse and left the area.

Now, they were about 250 miles from St. Louis approaching their next destination. They were headed for a secluded

cottage Sanderson owned on the Des Moines River, near Ottumwa, Iowa and about 80 miles from Des Moines. This would

be their hideout until the ransom situation was resolved.

Located on a large estate on the banks of the river, the cottage was one Sanderson bought several years ago under a

different name and used as a part-time residence. The closest neighbors were a good quarter of a mile away, invisible

because of the many trees surrounding the cottage. Here, Sanderson had a well equipped laboratory which he had used in

the past to work at various lucrative, and often illegal, projects.

Once he was certain he had eluded the police Sanderson planned to drive to the cottage in another car which had been

stored in Chicago. He would then be able to use the laboratory to prepare the gas from the formula Mr. Yates had given him.

If he was successful in producing the gas he would then test it on a number of small caged animals housed in the laboratory.

Then, and only then, would he make arrangements to release the boy.

When Juke and Pat arrived at the cottage Jimmy was beginning to stir as the effects of the drug wore off. Juke picked

him up and carried him inside while Pat parked the car in the attached garage.

* * *

That evening Lieutenant Simon, Sergeant Thomas, and Chandler Pearce of the FBI paid a visit to the Yates. “We were

hoping we would be delivering good news, but that’s not the case,” said Lieutenant Simon, after first introducing Pearce to Mr.

and Mrs. Yates. “We monitored your conversation in the men’s room and then watched all the men who emerged before you

did. None of them was carrying the briefcase you entered with. In fact, the only one with anything in his hands was carrying a

newspaper and that’s all. Somehow, our man gave us the slip.”

“I guess you’re not as efficient as I thought you were,” replied Wilson Yates angrily. “I gave the man the ‘formula’ I had

prepared for him and we have nothing to show for it. What are you going to bungle next?”

At this point Chandler Pearce decided to enter the discourse as peacemaker. “Please, Mr. Yates, we have hundreds of

police officers and agents combing the countryside. If they are still in the area we will find them.”

“How do you know they are still in the area? Maybe they have already taken Jimmy somewhere else. The man was at the

airport; who knows where he is now? He may have caught a plane to somewhere else right after he talked to me and is going

to meet his accomplices there. He must have accomplices.”

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