May 25, 7:00 A.M. Telephone call to Clark Forthcue, Forth-cue mansion, Long Island:
“Mr. Forthcue, don’t talk, listen. Telephone calls can be traced easy, letters can’t be. This will be the only telephone call and it will be short. We have your stepdaughter Imogene, who will be referred to in typed correspondence as Pure Rotten, a name that fits a ten-year-old spoiled rich brat like this one. For more information check the old rusty mailbox in front of the deserted Garver farm at the end of Wood Road near your property. Check it tonight. Check it every night. Tell the police or anyone else besides your wife about this and the kid dies. We’ll know. We mean business.”
Click.
Buzz.
Snatchers, Inc.
May 25
Dear Mr. Forthcue:
Re our previous discussion on Pure Rotten: It will cost you exactly one million dollars for the return of the merchandise unharmed. We have researched and we know this is well within your capabilities. End the agony you and your wife are going through. Give us your answer by letter. We will check the Garver mailbox sometime after ten tomorrow evening. Your letter had better be there.
Sincerely,
Snatchers, Inc.
May 26
Mr. Snatcher:
Do not harm Pure Rotten. I have not contacted the authorities and do not intend to do so. Mrs. Forthcue and I will follow your instructions faithfully. But your researchers have made an error. I do not know if one million dollars is within my capabilities and it will take me some time to find out. Be assured that you have my complete cooperation in this matter. Of course if some harm should come to Pure Rotten, this cooperation would abruptly cease.
Anxiously,
Dear Mr. Forthcue:
Come off it. We know you can come up with the million. But in the interest of that cooperation you mentioned we are willing to come down to 750,000 dollars for the return of Pure Rotten. It will be a pleasure to get this item off our hands, one way or the other.
Determinedly,
Snatchers, Inc.
May 27
Dear Mr. Snatcher:
I write this letter in the quietude of my veranda, where for the first time in years it is tranquil enough for me to think clearly, so I trust I am dealing with this matter correctly. By lowering your original figure by twenty-five percent you have shown yourselves to be reasonable men, with whom an equally reasonable man might negotiate. Three quarters of a million is, as I am sure you are aware, a substantial sum of money. Even one in my position does not raise that much on short notice without also raising a few eyebrows and some suspicion. Might you consider a lower sum?
Reasonably,
Dear Mr. Forthcue:
Pure Rotten is a perishable item and a great inconvenience to store. In fact, live explosives might be a more manageable commodity for our company to handle. In light of this we accede to your request for a lower figure by dropping our fee to 500,000 dollars delivered immediately. This is our final figure. It would be easier, in fact a pleasure, for us to dispose of this commodity and do business elsewhere.
Still determinedly,
Snatchers, Inc.
May 29
Dear Mr. Snatcher:
This latest lowering of your company’s demands is further proof that I am dealing with intelligent and realistic individuals.
Of course my wife has been grieving greatly over the loss, however temporary, of Pure Rotten, though with the aid of new furs and jewelry she has recovered from similar griefs. When one marries a woman, as in acquiring a company, one must accept the liabilities along with the assets. With my rapidly improving nervous condition, and as my own initial grief and anxiety subside somewhat, I find myself at odds with my wife and of the opinion that your 500,000 dollar figure is outrageously high. Think more in terms of tens of thousands.
Regards,
Forthcue:
Ninety thousand is it! Final! By midnight tomorrow in the Carver mailbox, or Pure Rotten will be disposed of. You are keeping us in an uncomfortable position and we don’t like it. We are not killers, but we can be.
Snatchers, Inc.
May 30
Dear Mr. Snatcher:
Free after many years of the agonizing pain of my ulcer, I can think quite objectively on this matter. Though my wife demands that I pay some ransom, ninety thousand dollars is out of the question. I suggest you dispose of the commodity under discussion as you earlier intimated you might. After proof of this action, twenty thousand dollars will accompany my next letter in the Garver mailbox. Since I have been honest with you and have not contacted the authorities, no one, including my wife, need know the final arrangements of our transaction.
Cordially,
Forthcue:
Are you crazy? This is a human life. We are not killers. But you are right about one thing — no amount of money is worth more than your health. Suppose we return Pure Rotten unharmed tomorrow night? Five thousand dollars for our trouble and silence will be plenty.
Snatchers, Inc.
May 31
Dear Mr. Snatcher:
After due reflection I must unequivocally reject your last suggestion and repeat my own suggestion that you dispose of the matter at hand in your own fashion. I see no need for further correspondence in this matter.
Snatchers, Inc.
June 1
Clark Forthcue:
There has been a take over of the bord of Snatchers, Inc. and my too vise presidents who haven’t got a choice agree with me, the new president. I have all the carbon copys of Snatchers, Inc. letters to you and all your letters back to us. The law is very seveer with kidnappers and even more seveer with people who want to kill kids.
But the law is not so seveer with kids, in fact will forgive them for almost anything if it is there first ofense. If you don’t want these letters given to the police you will leave 500,000 dollars tomorrow night in Carvers old mailbox. I meen it. Small bils is what we want but some fiftys and hundreds will be o.k.
Sincerely,