A Persian Gem

by Jeff Isaacson

  “Look,” Thad finally said. “He matches the physical description exactly. He does speak English with a British accent. He’s definitely Iranian American. But why would he steal jewels?”

  “Didn’t you hear me say that the Turquoise Egg was worth ten million dollars?” I repeated.

  “How many millions does a guy need?” Thad wondered.

  “Are you sure his business is legit?” I asked.

  “I don’t know why he’d try to hire me as a maintenance worker for it if it wasn’t,” Thad replied.

  “He offered you a job?” I asked.

  “Standing offer,” Thad declared.

  “Why are you still slumming it with me at MNDOT?” I wondered.

  “I’d have to move to New York City,” Thad said. “And I love my house. Couldn’t afford a house like that in New York City on the salary I was offered.”

  I paused.

  “What if he just wants to be a jewel thief?” I asked.

  “What?” Thad raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean like in a heist movie. Maybe he gets a thrill out of just seeing if he can get away with it,” I suggested.

  “Girl…” Thad trailed off.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Okay, one time Farhad said to me something like we’re two exceptionally intelligent guys. I bet that if we put our mind to it, we could rob a bank and never get caught,” Thad admitted. “Now maybe if I would’ve said something about also fantasizing about robbing a bank from time to time maybe that would’ve gone somewhere, but no…just no.”

  There was a pause.

  “Although,” Thad observed. “There was also this about Farhad. He loved watching heist movies. Most people probably don’t know that the Oceans plus a number heist movies starring all of those A list Hollywood actors and actresses were remakes. Farhad used to constantly watch old movies like that. At least I think he did.”

  “You don’t know?” I puzzled.

  “There’s just something about me and movies,” Thad chuckled. “The men that I’ve dated or, like with Farhad, even lived with, have all loved movies. In fact, given that, I should be the movie expert on our bar trivia team instead of Dave…”

  “But Dave’s a savant,” I objected. “I don’t think that it’s possible to know more about movies than him. I’m surprised that he has time for a wife and kids, much less a job.”

  “True, but I should know at least as much. But I don’t know what it is. This is no indictment of any filmmaker, any director, or anyone’s acting skills, but I fall asleep within ten minutes of the start of any movie that I try to watch,” Thad confessed.

  “Even in the theater?” I laughed.

  “Especially in the theater,” Thad nodded. “It’s dark and climate controlled. God I wish I could keep my bedroom as comfortable and as dark as the movie theater.

  In fact, I believe I fell asleep during the original Ocean’s 11 when I was with Farhad. Then I believe that I fell asleep in the theater during the newer Ocean’s 11 on a first date, and the guy seriously just left me in the movie theater. Some scared teenage girl with a broom and dustpan woke me up.”

  “You’re a fun date, Thad,” I laughed.

  “Well, I can tell you that when Farhad woke me up after the movie we got it on like Donkey Kong. How’s that for fun?” Thad grinned.

  “I could’ve lived the rest of my life without ever knowing that,” I shook my head.

  “Well, you insulted my funness,” Thad raised his pinky to his lips.

  “At least you put out,” I noted.

  “I don’t tease,” Thad insisted.

  “Moving on. So he’s fascinated with heist movies. He suggested that the two of you were so smart that you could rob a bank and not get caught,” I summarized.

  “Yeah,” Thad agreed. “But seriously, how many people could that describe? The reason that they make heist movies is because not everybody falls asleep ten minutes in. Lots of people like heist movies.

  And how many men who are young, dumb, and full of cum, and hubris about their own intelligence say something like that about getting away with bank robbery? Especially in the context of a relationship. Have you ever been on a dating app? Everybody is looking for their ‘partner in crime’”

  “I haven’t been on a dating app,” I said. Suddenly I was aware of this possible void in my life. Maybe the right man won’t just come along. Maybe I did have to swipe my way into the twenty-first century.

  “Ever heard of Judd Herrmann?” Thad suddenly asked.

  “No,” I replied.

  “He had a song called ‘Dumpster of Love’. That’s what dating apps are. They are the dumpster of love,” Thad declared.

  “Of course some of us like it dirty,” Thad added.

  “Did you stay awake long enough to know if Farhad rooted for the thieves in the heist movies?” I asked.

  “Isn’t that the point of heist movies? No one roots for the Sheriff of Nottingham in the Robin Hood movies,” Thad pointed out.

  “Duh,” I shook my head.

  “Actually, it’s not such a stupid question!” Thad blurted. “Well it is a stupid question, but it made me think of something. Farhad always rooted for the villain in every movie that he watched, even as a kid. Or at least so he told me. And I mean even in like Disney movies!”

  “For real?” I gasped.

  “For real. I honestly wondered if I should continue the relationship for a moment when he told me that he rooted for Cruella de Vil when he was eight. Seriously, I bet even Ted Bundy and the Unabomber were rooting for those Dalmatians,” Thad exasperated.

  I laughed.

  “God maybe it was him,” Thad mused. “But no, it’s impossible. He’s in Mumbai on business.”

  “A convenient alibi,” I suggested.

  Thad sighed.

  I stepped on a jagged shard of shell and yelped.

  “Maybe he did do it,” Thad decided. “Great, now you’re going to have me playing detective too. And at the wedding of a dear friend. A wedding that…

  Well, I hope he gets away with it if he did do it. But you’re probably not going to let that happen are you?”

  “Maybe we can tread lightly on this one,” I decided. “After all, he’s been kind of enough to let some woman that he doesn’t know from Eve stay in his beachfront mansion in paradise for free.”

  “You should be grateful,” Thad agreed.

  “So maybe we’ll just keep this between us. Maybe I could get him to hand over the gems, and we could arrange for that racist old bitty to get them back if he did it. Then, hopefully, everyone would be happy, and no one goes to jail,” I suggested.

  “I think that’s a good plan,” Thad nodded.

  We walked along.

  “Ow!” Thad yelped. “I clearly missed a spot with my sand fly repellent.”

  We took a couple more steps.

  “Can we go back? There’s a chink in my armor. And it’s only a matter of time before a legion of no see ‘ems find it and eat me alive,” Thad insisted.

  “Sure, there’s something that I want to do anyway,” I said as I turned around.

  “Which is?” Thad leaned toward me.

  “It occurred to me that maybe we could clear Farhad this afternoon if we act fast,” I decided.

  “How?” Thad wondered.

  “As far as I know, there’s only one place on the island where someone could’ve known about some of the jewels that Gertrude possessed ahead of time…”

  “Of course, Sanibel Jewelry,” Thad rubbed his hands together. “This is exciting! Can I come with? It’s right by Pinocchio’s. We can stop at Pinocchio’s afterward. Have you ever been to Pinocchio’s? Best ice cream on the island.”

  “Yeah, you can come with. Especially since you know where this place is,” I smiled.

  “Great!” Thad beamed. “Except we have to ride Farhad’s cruisers. God I hate cruisers. You know how people complain that things chap their ass? Well these little beach cruisers literally cha
p your ass.”

  “I know,” I nodded.

  “They’re just made for people to ride a few blocks to the beach or something with. You need a good road bike if you have to go more than a mile. But we don’t have that. And unfortunately Sanibel Jewelry and Pinocchio’s are a lot more than a mile away,” Thad exasperated.

  Thad should’ve been more worried about something else on our bike ride: spontaneous mummification after that mass of sweat beads on his bald head dried. I mean he had sweat like I’ve never seen before. There were so many sweat beads that new sweat beads had no place to go. So they overcame the barriers of surface tension and combined until it looked like Thad had just submerged his head in a bubble bath for a second and come back up to the surface. It just can’t be healthy for a man to sweat that much. It has to be some kind of condition.

  It didn’t look like it had any effect on him though. He was biking almost as fast as I would’ve been had I been in the lead. Of course I was hampered with a literal chapped ass after my ride to Gertrude’s and back, but still. I’m a marathoner. I’m even a pretty good marathoner. I’m in shape. Eighty percent of me is better than one hundred percent of most.

  But could I really even consider Thad at one hundred percent? His head looked like the head of someone who had tried to drink out of the fire hydrant. That didn’t look like one hundred percent. It actually looked like one hundred and ten percent. Thad looked ripe for some one hundred and ten percent meme with a picture of him. In his own way he could be the hang in there cat for this generation.

  We eventually made it to Sanibel Jewelry.

  “Do you need a towel? Or a blanket?” I laughed.

  “Laugh it up. Do you have any idea how the sun bakes the head of a bald man? I had to SPF Infinity every inch of it to keep from getting sunburned,” Thad protested.

  “Seems like the layer of salt from a gallon of evaporating sweat probably would’ve kept you safe,” I chuckled.

  “We’re here,” Thad shook his head. “Are we going to go inside?”

  “Of course,” I was still laughing a little.

  “Let me shake,” Thad said.

  “Work it,” I replied.

  “Don’t laugh,” he insisted.

  I did my best, and succeeded enough in hiding my few snickers from Thad, to not openly laugh as Thad shook his head like a bulldog who had just dutifully dropped the ball that they had retrieved from a lake in front of their owner.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  I nodded so that I didn’t laugh.

  Sanibel Jewelry is a pretty small shop. The three rows of display cases, one on each side and one in the rear of the store, mainly held necklaces, earrings, rings, and pendants. It seemed to specialize in pieces that either evoked the shapes of the sea, especially sea shells, or incorporated faux sea shells made out of gems into the design, especially in earrings. It did not look like a particularly good place to find diamonds with a high degree of clarity, but Gertrude had said that this jeweler was where she had purchased all of her extremely clear diamonds.

  There was an old man behind the case at the rear of the store half on and half off of a stool by the old fashioned cash register that still showed the five dollars and seventy-three cents that the last customer who paid with cash had presumably received back in change. The old man looked like a character. He had a full head of unmanageable gray hair in danger of a wildfire. His thick, black framed glasses magnified his brown eyes. Those eyes looked sleepy, but they also looked like they could wake up at any moment and sail past you. His nose was bulbous and a little red. I imagined that he was no stranger to a particular watering hole somewhere here on the island. His lips were thin, a little pale, and curled in seemingly perpetual one sided smile. His face, like the face of almost every older person who had lived their entire life in Florida, was like leather, brown and tanned in the sun until it could’ve been used for a jacket. He was a little on the short side. He was a tad overweight. He didn’t appear to have a lot of muscle. It looked like twelve ounce curls were maybe the closest thing that he had to a fitness regimen.

  Thad and I approached him.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hello,” Thad added.

  He seemed amused by us. Maybe he thought we were a couple and that neither of us had figured out that Thad was gay yet.

  “Looking for anything in particular?” he asked.

  “Gertrude Weisswalder told me that this is where she gets all of her diamonds that are graded high on clarity,” I said.

  “You’re looking for diamonds with a high degree of clarity? How long are you gonna’ be in town?” he looked more serious now.

  “We’re actually more interested in Gertrude Weisswalder,” I stated. “How many people here knew that she was buying a lot of diamonds from this store?”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny that Gertrude Weisswalder was a customer of mine. I don’t tell tales about people who may or may not be my customers. I will afford you the same protections if you buy something from me,” he stood up.

  “I’m sure she’d be fine with it,” I declared.

  “What are your names?” he demanded.

  We gave him our names.

  “I’m Rick,” he said. “And I’ll be right back.”

  Then he yelled, “Stephan! Stephan! Get out here! I need to head back to the office.”

  A young man came out. He looked at us awkwardly and tried to find a place to rest his eyes.

  Rick came back out quickly. “My mistake,” he said with the half smile returning. “Apparently I can speak to you about this. But this is very…sensitive. So please come back to my office.”

  Rick lifted up the wooden piece between two of the glass cases, and Thad and I followed him through a warehouse, past a mop station, and back to a small office where there was barely room for a desk, a desktop computer, a cushy chair behind said desk, a file cabinet, and two hard chairs. Thad and I settled into the two hard chairs.

  “Shut the door,” Rick insisted.

  Thad reached behind us and shut the door.

  “So you wanted to know who here knew about our business with Gertrude Weisswalder, right?” Rick asked.

  We nodded.

  “She’s one of my best customers. You don’t let people like Stephan work with your best customers.

  Plus, Stephan wouldn’t know what to do. I had to look for those gems through wholesalers or auctions. They were special orders. Right now I’m the only one who does that,” Rick declared.

  “But you weren’t always the only one.” I observed.

  “Perceptive,” Rick observed. “Maybe Gertrude is right to trust you.

  No, it hasn’t always been just me. I used to have a partner. He has helped her too. I don’t trust him anymore. We used to knock ‘em down and have a good time, but he started taking it way too far. And then when you add cocaine to the mix…well…

  He stole from the business. I didn’t want to have it all over the papers. I didn’t need the negative press. I just made him sign over his half of the business. I told him that his theft was what I was using to buy him out. He didn’t want to go to jail, so he took the bit in the teeth. Especially since he knew that what he stole was about enough for me to buy him out.

  He knew about the diamonds too.”

  “What about the other gems?” I asked.

  “As far as I know, she got everything but her diamonds on her own…I guess technically probably through agents at auctions,” Rick replied.

  “This former partner of yours,” Thad began. “Is he white?”

  “He’s Lebanese American,” Rick stated.

  “Short and thin?” Thad followed.

  “Last I saw him. I guess I’m sure he hasn’t grown…vertically,” Rick nodded.

  “This may sound weird, but does he speak with an English accent?” Thad asked.

  “Not weird at all. Lot of people from all over the world learn English from the English. And yes, my former partner, Nez, speaks with an
English accent,” Rick nodded.

  Thad and I looked at each other.

  “Do you suspect him? Wouldn’t surprise me,” Rick sighed.

  “Nez?” I mused.

  “That’s all you need to know to find him. I’m probably the only person on the island who even knows his real name. He’s moved around a lot, and I don’t know where he lives these days, but if you want to find him, I’ve heard he’s almost always at his pizzeria during his bread and butter, the lunch buffet,” Rick stated.

  “Pizzeria?” Thad wondered.

  “Very authentic. Old family recipe,” Rick deadpanned.

  Thad and I laughed.

  “Yeah, don’t know where he got the money, but he owns Nez’s Pizza now. He’s there almost every day during the lunch buffet from what I hear. I hear that he dips out for his liquid dinner before the dinner rush, but people tell me he’s almost always there during the buffet, from eleven to two every day,” Rick concluded.

  “Do you have any more questions?” I asked Thad.

  “No,” Thad shook his head.

  “Thanks, Rick,” I got up to shake his hand.

  “Catch him if he did it,” Rick shook our hands. “I’m still pissed at that guy.”

  6

  Thad and I rode our beach cruiser bikes to Nez’s Pizza the next day. We were right in time for the start of the lunch buffet.

  We entered the restaurant just as the door opened at eleven o’ clock. We were the first ones in the restaurant and were promptly shown to a booth.

  A mounted red snapper writhed overhead and opened its gaping mouth so ferociously that it made fishing look like a game of kill or be killed. The red snapper bared its teeth along a wall that I can only describe as wood paneled, unfinished, nineteen seventies basement. And our booth, with its bright red vinyl seats in a dark, wooden sleigh, beside a table with a weird little fake candle, obligatory red pepper and parmesan shakers, and napkin dispenser, was not alone in sitting next to a gamefish frozen in place in the middle of terrorizing Tokyo. Every booth had its own mini Jaws, perhaps a swordfish, perhaps a marlin. Some bold fisherman had even gone hook to jowl with a yellowfin tuna and survived.