Finally the waitress broke the tension by sliding a burger and fries in front of Al. He glanced down at the food, grunted, and reached for the ketchup.
“No matter how you cut it,” he said, pouring a small river of the red stuff across his fries, “the necklace is out of play. Too bad, too. It was worth over three million.”
I blinked. Three million dollars?
Al didn’t look up. He globbed some ketchup onto his burger. Then he mashed the bun on top and took a huge bite. Only once he was chewing did he bother to look up at me. His eyes were hard and flat.
“’Course, the earrings are still out there. And those diamonds were huge, too. Best I could figure, that little trinket is worth one point two large.”
There was a time when large meant thousand. Probably back when the old man was out of prison and still working. Inflation is a bitch, though. When Al said large now, he meant million.
One point two million dollars. That much money was a new life, just like I’d hoped.
Al tore off another bite and talked while he chewed. “Now, some of that is historical value, cultural value, that kind of shit. But just the diamonds themselves are probably worth eight hundred. Even a fuckin’ amateur like you could find a fence who’ll pay two. So I’ll settle for a hundred.”
I blinked. “What?”
Al kept chewing. “You heard me.”
“You’re crazy. I’m not paying you a hundred anything.”
“Yeah, you will. Or you’ll get nothing. I’ll put the word out on this little caper and it’ll dry up like your nuts when you jump in a cold swimming pool.”
I stared at him. “You seem to forget our deal.”
“Fuck our deal. Say hello to the new deal.”
“Okay, “I said. “How’s this for a new deal? How about I call Internal Affairs and have the chat I never did before with those cheeseaters?”
Al didn’t miss a beat. He put his burger down, wiping his hands methodically on a napkin. Then he reached under the table. A moment later, I heard the unmistakable metallic click of a revolver hammer being drawn back.
“How about I blow your fucking balls off right here in this diner?”
“Not very pretty,” I said, not believing him.
“It’ll do the job.”
“And you’ll go to prison for murder.”
Al shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe the derringer in my pocket ends up next to you. Maybe the official story is that you tried to smoke me and I was just faster.”
“Fat fuck like you? People would find that hard to believe.”
“Doesn’t matter, does it?” Al smiled, hamburger meat and bun stuck in his teeth. “At least not to you. Because you’ll be deader than forty bastards.”
We stared at each other across the table again. This was getting to be our shtick. Stare and threaten. I was getting sick of it. I thought about saying so, but something in his eyes told me he wasn’t fucking around.
“Why should I give you a hundred kay?” I asked.
Al smiled, this time with sincerity, because he knew he’d won. I heard the clicking sound again and knew he’d lowered the hammer. He moved in his seat, replacing the pistol in his holster.
“Nice, Mick. Glad you’re willing to play nice.”
“Answer my question,” I said.
Al picked up his burger again. “You’ll pay me for the information.”
“Pretty steep price.”
He took a bite and shrugged. “And for my cooperation,” he said around a mouthful.
“I don’t even know where these earrings are,” I said.
Al swallowed. “You’ll find them. At least, you fucking better.”
I wanted to jam the rest of that burger down his throat and watch the fucker choke to death. Instead, I slid out of the booth without a word. I left him and my own untouched coffee behind and walked out of the diner.
Two blocks away, I pulled out my phone again. I stared down at it, getting my thoughts in order. I could avoid paying Al, as long as I left town as soon as I made the score. It would be more difficult to find a fence in another city, but it couldn’t be too hard. Al would be easy to slip.
Jerzy was another matter.
I flipped open the phone and dialed.
“Yeah?” His voice on the other end of the line sounded tight. Not quite nervous, but maybe a little rattled.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“You called. So you tell me.”
Same subtle tightness there. Did he know that Ania called me?
“I know where Jimmy is,” I told him, forging ahead.
Jerzy was quiet for a second. Then he said, “Tell me.”
“No,” I said.
“No?” His tone was full of surprise.
“Meet me at Union Station, I’ll be waiting on a bench in the big hall. See you in an hour. I’ll fill you in on the train ride.”
“I’d rather drive,” he said.
“I’m sure you would. But this is how we play it.”
Jerzy was quiet again. Finally, he said, “Okay, Hero. See you there.”
He broke the connection.
I closed my phone and slipped it into my jacket pocket. I rubbed my cheek where Steve’s punch had glanced off of my face. I put him out of my mind, along with Connie, Eddie and the diner, Al, everything.
Right now, there was just Jerzy to worry about. And maybe Ania. And that was more than enough.
NINETEEN
Jerzy
Andros and Dobry drop me off and I tell them to not even come back up to the room. I go to the elevator but then I do a u-turn and head back out of the hotel.
I walk a short block over to some cheesy liquor store with bars on the windows and doors. I buy smokes, a bottle of Belvedere and some tonic water.
Five minutes later and I’m back in the room. After checking on the safe and the money, I make myself a drink and change clothes. Another drink goes down and I pull my cell out to call Patrik, just to let him know what’s up.
“Hey, Boss. Me.”
“Yes, my friend.”
“It’s done. Done deal. All of them.”
“Yes, I have gotten a quick report from your staff.” He sounded upbeat but cautious. “However, this connection is not very good, perhaps we should just talk in person.”
“Yeah, understood. Listen, just want you to know, the staff was good. Crew cut is a real keeper.”
“They have reported the same. You will stay there for a while, then?”
“Probably. Look, something has come up, though, and it’s big stuff. I won’t be back to the office for awhile. I’ve got some new, big business going on and it will keep me very busy. Can’t come back now.”
“Of course. In a week, I’m sure you’ll have a more open calendar.”
“No. No, I mean for a long time, Boss.”
“Is there something?”
“Yes, part of this business is that our competition knows about the New Jersey office now. So they’ll be looking at Jersey hard, maybe relocating.”
There’s a long pause.
“I see…I will call you tomorrow and we will make arrangements for a meeting so we that can discuss our marketing strategy.”
“Okay, but not here and not there, I’ll come up with a place. I’ll call you.”
“We are forever in your debt for sealing this deal, my friend. Drive careful, the traffic will be very bad. Be safe.”
“Always.”
“Do widzenia.” The line went dead.
I walk over and put two cubes in the cup and splashed in some vodka, think about it and then pour some more in. I don’t even consider the tonic this time.
I’m staring out the window into the dark, but I’m not looking at anything. My head is everywhere right now. It just figures, I’m sitting here in an average little chain hotel but I got a cool two hundred grand in the room…and I’m drinking vodka out of a plastic cup.
Hey, I could deal with holing up here until they whacked the fall guy from the west coast. No problem. Drink vodka out of the bottle for that matter, if that’s all there was to it. But I’m a trapped rat now. When the sun comes up, or however long it takes Kos to grow the balls to sell some very valuable information, I will be hunted. Hunted hard. Every fucking Russian that works for the Skansi crew and anyone they can pull in from the outside will be looking for my ass.