It Was a Very Bad Year

FIFTY-ONE

The kidnappers ran us around LA until finally, at the last phone booth, Frank got excitedly back into the car.

‘OK, we got it,’ he said. ‘Sunset Boulevard.’

‘What?’

‘That’s what they said. “Leave the money between two school buses parked at a gas station on Sunset Boulevard.”’

‘Where on Sunset?’

‘Just drive,’ Frank said, ‘I’ll tell you where.’

He directed me, and we finally arrived at the site. I parked across the street. We sat there for a few moments.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘Gimme the money.’

The bag was on the back seat with Jerry. He picked it up and passed it to Frank.

‘Frank,’ I said, ‘do you want me to-’

‘No,’ he said. ‘If they’re watchin’ I want them to see me deliver it. Just sit tight, boys.’

He got out of the car, crossed the street, walking quickly. I had the feeling it was all he could do not to break into a run. Frank Jr. might have been just feet away from him.

Frank looked around, set the package down, and hurried back to the car.

‘I couldn’t see anything,’ he said, getting in.

‘Neither did we,’ I said.

‘What now?’ Jerry asked.

‘Back to the house.’

‘Mr S.,’ Jerry said, ‘Mr G. can pull around the block, and I can come back on foot to watch-’

‘No, Jerry,’ Frank said. ‘We’ll go home to wait for a call, or for Frankie to come home.’

‘Whatever you say, Frank.’

I started the car and headed to Bel-Air.

Once again we worked our way through the reporters to get to the house. Afterward, we just sat around and waited, as Frank asked us to. It was quite a motley crowd. Those of us who were part of Frank’s circle all looked alike: unshaven and rumpled. The policeman and FBI agents were clean and sharply dressed. We all wore the same hangdog expression.

A few hours later a policeman came into the room to whisper into DA Evans’ ear. Evans then came over to Frank and, within earshot of me, said, ‘We should go to the front door.’

‘What for?’

‘Come on, Frank.’

Evans and Frank started, I followed, Jerry followed me, and then suddenly everyone — Entratter, Jilly Rizzo, the FBI men, cops, bodyguards, Rudin — trudged to the front door.

Since I was right behind Frank I had a clear view of the driveway. A patrol car drove up and stopped in front of the house.

‘What’s goin’ on?’ Frank asked.

A lone patrolman got out of the car, walked to the back and opened the trunk. As if by magic, Frank Jr. stepped out.

‘Oh my God!’ Frank said, and ran to him. As we all watched he gave the boy a bone-crushing hug, which had Frankie grinning shyly. Or maybe he was just embarrassed by the attention. I figured he was gonna have to face a lot more from his mother and sisters.

Frank dragged the boy into the house as we all added back slaps and applause.

The prodigal son was home.