“Sure,” said Charlie, even though he wasn’t sure, wasn’t sure at all. There was something wrong with Teddy, something off. Charlie thought about calling Ralph at work or going to get Joey, but Teddy brushed through the door and started reaching for the stuff that was scattered about, the jewels and bars of metal. Uncertain about what else to do, Charlie pitched in to help put everything in the boxes. They were halfway finished when the girl slipped through the open door and into the basement.
They hadn’t noticed her at first, they kept on loading the stuff into the boxes as she watched. They even talked about it, the paintings and the jewels, the whole operation. They spilled it all as she stood, motionless, just to the side of the doorway.
And then she stirred, and they both turned their heads, and there she was, the girl, staring at them with her wide eyes.
She was no stranger, this girl, dark-haired and pretty and impossibly young. She was one of the children who had been drawn by Teddy to the alleyway with candy and little gifts. First there was the boy, her older brother, and then he brought the girl, and then others showed up, like pigeons drawn to crumbs. Teddy liked having them around, their laughter, their unalloyed greed, the way as soon as they got some candy in their mouths they asked for more, and he liked this girl most of all. There wasn’t anything more to it, nothing sexual or weird, but even when the others suggested it might not be the best idea to have them around, Teddy persisted. He said the kids gave them all a cover, made Ralph’s place a more integral part of the neighborhood, but that wasn’t the real reason, they could tell. Teddy had some desperate need to be worshipped, and these kids were his congregation.
And now one of his flock, his favorite, was in the basement, wide-eyed and innocent, but not as innocent as she’d been just a moment before.
“Hi, Chantal,” said Teddy.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing in here?”
“I came to say hello. I heard voices.”
“You didn’t knock. You should always knock.”
“Okay. I will. Next time. I promise.”
“As long as you promise. We’re just packing up some stuff. Come on over, I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“Come on.”
She did. She stepped forward.
“Look at this,” said Teddy, holding out something big and glistening. “You know what this is?”
She shook her head.
“It’s a diamond,” he said. “Isn’t that something? Isn’t that cool? You want to touch it?”
“Okay.”
“Here, touch it.”
“Teddy,” said Charlie. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Shut up, Charlie. Here, Chantal. Touch it.”
She reached out her hand, petted the diamond as if petting a cat, even let out a little purr, and as she did, her eyes sparkled.
“Do you want one?”
“Oh, yes,” she said.
“Remember I gave you that lighter you liked? I could also give you a diamond. Just a little one. If you make a promise. Can you make a promise, Chantal?”
“Yes.”
“Will you promise not to tell anyone what you saw in here today?”
“How little?”
“About as big as your fingernail.”
“Really?”
“Sure. But can you promise?”
“Okay. Why is there a hole in the floor?”
“Just a plumbing thing. But you promise, right?”
“I promise.”
“Good, Chantal. Now Charlie and I are going to put some stuff in the car, and then I’ll give you your diamond, okay? Can you sit on that box and wait?”
“Okay.”
“Good. Let’s go, Charlie, let’s load it up.”
And they did, put everything in the car. It was heavy, but the volume was surprisingly small after Ralph and Hugo had melted down the metal, and the whole stash fit in the small trunk of the sports car.
“All right, Charlie,” said Teddy when it was all packed up. “Go take a test drive, nice and slow. Maybe buy some gas. I’ll walk Chantal home and meet you back here in about half an hour.”
“She knows,” said Charlie.
“She won’t tell anyone.”
“Of course she will, she’s a kid.”
“She won’t,” said Teddy. “Let me give her the diamond, walk her home. Be back here in half an hour.”
“Maybe I should just stay.”
And there it was, in Teddy’s eyes, something hard and cold, a look not of anger but of shared understanding of what was going to happen. Charlie tried to shake his head, but he couldn’t, he was frozen. And he felt, in that moment, all the euphoria and good feeling and hope, most of all the hope, bleed out of him as if a vein had been slashed.
“Go on, Charlie,” said Teddy.
“I don’t think I should.”
“Stop thinking, then, and go.”
“Teddy?”
“Just go.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Hey, Charlie, you know the painting, the one we took for insurance, in case something went wrong? I think maybe you should hold on to it for us all.”
“Where will I put it?”
“I don’t know, you’ll figure it out. But go on now, go for a drive. I’ll meet you here in half an hour.”
And he did just that, Charlie. He got in the car, and he drove away, and he filled up the tank, and he drove around, and when he came back, Teddy was waiting for him under the deck. He told Charlie he took the girl home. He told Charlie it was all right, that he could guarantee she wouldn’t say a word. He told Charlie that he’d meet them all back at the house that night with the money, and they’d divide it up, and they’d have a party. And then as Charlie stood under the small deck, with the rolled-up painting in a carton tube in his hand, Teddy Pravitz drove away with all the fruits of their great and noble act of self-creation.
And Charlie never saw him again.
65
It was dark now, with only the flickering of the citronella candles and the intermittent headlights sweeping across the landscape illuminating our faces. But even in that strange, uneven light, I could see the tears, on Charlie’s face, on Monica’s cheeks, welling in Joey’s hard eyes. Only Rhonda seemed distracted, keeping watch on her tape player, taking notes by candlelight.
“How come you didn’t look for him?” said Rhonda.
“We thought he’d contact us,” said Joey. “At first we was scared something happened. But when there was nothing in the papers, we figured he’d give us a call sometime.”
“He said something before about going to Australia,” said Charlie, wiping at his nose with his wrist. “What was we going to do, head off to Australia? But in the end I’m not sure we really wanted to find the bastard. He didn’t flash that gun just to show he was prepared. It was a warning, too.”
“Australia was just a feint,” I said. “He was planning to rip you off from the start.”
“What about Chantal?” said Monica. “What else do you know? What did he do with her?”
Charlie looked at Joey, who glanced back and then down.
“What is it?” said Monica. “Tell me.”
“We was burying everything connected to the crime in the basement, our clothes, the guns, the equipment we used to melt the metal,” said Joey. “Everything they could use to identify us. We thought it was safer than chucking it into a landfill. Early on, we had bought the cement and some sand and gravel to mix up with it to slather on top. The day after Teddy disappeared, when we started filling in the hole, we saw it.”
“What?” said Monica. “What did you see? Exactly.”
“The edge of a sheet. Holding something, covered by chunks of cement and piled-on dirt. I knew what it was right off.”
“Oh my God,” said Monica, breaking into tears. “All this time. But I would have known. I would have felt it.”
“What did you do, Charlie?” I said.
“What could we do? The four of us, we buried everything and tried to forget.”