by J B Raphael
His world fell apart when he entered a diamond dealer’s shop, the bearded man behind the thick glass picked up the necklace, put in his eyeglass and put it down again, quickly, “I’ll give you £120 for the gold weight, the stones are zircons, fake, of no value, I’m sorry.” Jon walked out of the shop in a daze, he was numb. He had murdered for a load of junk. But he still had three rings and a watch, he hoped that they were real! He walked further down Hatton Garden, and went into another dealer’s shop, he produced the watch through the security hatch.
The young bearded man put in his eyeglass and studied the piece carefully, “Very nice,” he said, and put it down, “just a minute please,” he said and went into his office, with a very obvious see-through mirror. Jon waited, but only for three or four minutes, “Okay,” the dealer said, “how much did you want for the piece?” he asked.
“I really don’t know, but I think it’s worth ten thousand, after all it’s a diamond Rolex.”
“Well, yes,” said the young man, “but first, if you don’t mind, I have to check with the insurance computer. It’ll only take a minute,” he added. “Okay, everything’s fine,” he said, from his office door. He returned with ten packets of £50 notes, each containing a thousand pounds. “I need some details from you, name, address etc., just for my records,” he said. Jon left the shop having given a false name and address. He felt better even though the necklace was worthless, and his forecast of wealth to Lorna was now much lower than the quarter of a million! He thought he would tell her over a nice dinner at her favourite bistro in Hampstead.
Over the said dinner, during the main course and after a large glass of Merlot, Jon reached into his pocket and brought out a tissue, in it was the necklace. He pushed it over to Lorna, she opened the bundle, “It’s a fake,” Jon said, “worth £120 for it’s gold content, still that’ll pay for this meal!” he added.
Lorna looked down at the necklace and mentally saw her sports car and handbags disappear, “Oh well,” she said, “what you’ve never had you can’t miss!”
“Oh, don’t worry my darling, we’ve still got a lot of cash, and the rings, bracelet and anklet, they should bring in a few thousand so we are still well in the money. Tomorrow I’ll go and cash them in and we’ll see about changing our lives a little.”
Hatton Garden was buzzing at 11 o’clock the next morning as Jon walked along the opposite side of the street to where he had sold the watch. He walked into a small shop, after pressing the entry button, “Good morning,” the young woman said, with an air of authority. Jon produced the rings and the bracelet, passing them through the security slot in the thick glass window. She put her eyeglass to her eye, firstly the bracelet, and then the rings, “Do you want an advance or do you want to sell them?” she asked.
“I’d like to sell them,” Jon said.
“I see,” said the woman, “there are one or two checks I have to make, how much do you think they are worth?” she asked.
“I thought £20,000,” he replied.
“Okay,” she said, and disappeared into the back of the shop with the jewels. She re-appeared after 4 or 5 minutes and said, “I’ll give you £18,000, that’s my best offer, even though they are very nice, but this ring has quite a large flaw, that’s a carbon piece,” she added.
Jon thought for a short while and said, “Okay, it’s a deal,” as he looked into her beautiful brown eyes. She pushed a form and a pen through the glass gap for him to fill in his name, address and signature. He did this as she produced eighteen packets of £50 notes in thousands. Right, he thought, that’s 28 grand.
He went to Lorna’s agency, and said that he would pick her up at 5.30pm. She, although tanned, looked dreadful, she hadn’t slept and her first day back at work had been hell. They discussed their position back at her small flat, “We’ve got over 40 grand,” Jon said, “not enough, but we still have the anklet. But that’s only about a grand, you may as well have that,” he said.
“No, get rid of it,” she said, shaking her head with a distasteful look on her face.
They ordered a Chinese takeaway, after which they went to bed, but no lovemaking, they just laid talking over their future. At midnight they had decided to do another ‘run’ as they called it, but where? They fell asleep, but Jon’s sleep was again fitfull, the recurring dream that Clarice came back from the sea and demanded her diamonds back. He awoke and sat bolt upright cold, but sweating, finding it hard to breathe. He rushed to the window and threw it open, gulping in fresh air. Lorna woke and went to comfort him, calming down, he returned to bed and told her of his nightmare. He was still sweating but managed to finally go back to sleep. In the morning they decided that after Jon had collected Lorna from work, they would go to the West End for a meal and possibly see a show. They decided on an up-market steak house, and then managed to get late tickets for ‘Les Mis’.
Leaving the theatre, they walked through busy streets back to the car. They had enjoyed the show and Jon was humming one of the songs. They arrived at Lorna’s flat, where Jon surprised her by saying that he would be going on to his sister’s for the night and to his flat in the morning for clothes etc. He said that he would pick her up after work, as he had to get back to work himself, he lied.
His sister answered the entry buzzer and activated the gates, Jon drove in and parked the Golf round the back of the house, then entered through the back door into the kitchen. She threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him, “Where have you beeen since you got back?” she asked.
“Er, I’ve been here and there you know, I’ve met someone,” he said.
“I know, I could smell her in my car, you naughty boy! I haven’t done it in a car for years!” she laughed. Jon looked sheepishly down at the floor, smiling. “Will you be staying here tonight? Peter’s in Paris, something to do with Bayer Pharmaceuticals and shagging his whore,” she started to cry. “I’m going to divorce him, I’ve had enough, he’s a bastard and I’m going to take him for every penny I can. The house, the cars, the villa in France, every fucking thing. Harley Street, ha! He’ll finish up on skid row,” she continued to sob. She poured herself a large glass of red wine.
“C’mon Vicks, that’s not the answer,” Jon said, putting his arm around her, “let’s sit down, have you eaten?” he asked.
“No, I’ve no appetite, I’ll take a sleeping pill and go to bed,” she said.
“Is that wise?” Jon asked, “you’ve been drinking.”
“Don’t worry darling, I’m not contemplating suicide, I’ve got a lot of living to do, I’m only 39,” she said, as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, taking the bottle with her. Jon was worried and decided to stay the night. He laid awake for a long time before he fell into a fitful sleep. The same dream woke him, he gasped as he sat up, and rushed to the window, throwing it open for some fresh air. After a few minutes he felt better, the vision of Clarice beckoning him faded, and he went back to bed. But sleep didn’t come, although the house was well built, he could hear Vicky sobbing.
Right, he said to himself the next morning as he walked into the kitchen, I’ll get rid of the anklet today. Vicky was sitting at the breakfast bar drinking coffee and looking terrible, “How did you sleep?” Jon asked, knowing the answer.
“Lousy,” came the reply, “there’s coffee in the cafetiere, help yourself,” she said.
They drank their coffee in silence, “Can I use the Golf?” he asked.
“You don’t have to ask, take the bastard’s Aston if you like, I don’t care,” she added.
“May I?” Jon asked.
“Sure,” she replied.
He drove down into Holborn, with the hood down, feeling a lot better than the day before, what a car! he thought. A beautiful royal blue, with cream leather interior, £120,000 worth of sheer heaven. He parked the Aston outside a small diamond dealers in Hatton Garden. He pressed the security ‘entry’ button and was allowed in. “Good morning,” said a middle-aged man with a beard and wearing a skull cap. He h
ad seen Jon park the Aston and thought ‘high class jewel thief’, he was right!
“I’d like to sell this little piece,” Jon said, as he passed it through the gap in the thick glass.
The man put in his eyeglass and studied it for quite some time, “How much did you want for it?” the dealer asked.
“Five thousand, the stones are quite big, and flawless.”
“How about five thousand pence, it’s a fake,” he answered.
“Fake?” Jon almost shouted, as the man pushed it back through the gap.
“Good day to you,” he said with a smile. Jon left the shop feeling down once again. The dealer thought, ‘the car’s probably a fake as well’!
Jon drove back to Lorna’s office, and at a corner desk, he told her about the anklet, she didn’t seem too worried and said, “Can we go again?”
“Yes,” he answered, “we’ll have to. What we’ve got won’t last very long, but where?” As he said it, he noticed a small poster on the wall that announced ‘New York Double. Cruise no fly, inc 3 day stop over. Shop and see the sights’. “How about that?” he said, pointing to the poster.
“It’s very expensive, about £4,000 per head,” Lorna advised.
“Well, it’s a gamble anyway.”
“Perhaps you should go alone,” she added.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, “I’ll pick you up at 5.30, bring some brochures, okay, see you then,” and blew a kiss.
Back at Lorna’s flat, after a Chinese takeaway, they went through the brochures. Jon said that he liked the idea of the ‘poster’ trip. “It’s £4,000 basic, on the Queen of the Atlantic. It goes next Sunday, we’ve just enough time if we book it in the morning. Will that be both of us, or you on your own?” she enquired.
“No,” Jon said, “I need you with me, hang the expense!”
Lorna booked the cruise, and Jon paid £8,000 in cash, “Well, at least I’ll get commission on this!” Lorna laughed.
The familiar drive down to Southampton was uneventful, he’d borrowed the Audi as he didn’t want the Golf to get too easily recognised. Bloody cameras everywhere, he thought, especially at airports and docks. Embarkation was smooth and fast, the car was valet-parked and their luggage was whisked away to their stateroom on deck B. Jon looked down from the balcony, this was an amazing ship, five restaurants, seven bars, two casinos, two pools etc etc. But Jon was only interested in one thing, lonely rich women, and on this trip he had two chances, there and back! Sunday at 4pm, exactly on time with the Cunard band playing and hundreds of people waving, the ship, sounding it’s departure, eased away from the quay. First night out dinner was a casual affair, and Lorna and Jon chose the London Carvery. The food, when chosen, was delivered to their table. Service was the order of the day, the fare was enormous, a menu would have been three feet long! roasts, salads, grills, seafood etc, and a host of desserts. They feasted and sat back in their seats feeeling absolutely bloated, “Let’s check out the bars,” Jon suggested as they left the restaurant. They looked at the ship’s map and decided on the ‘Palace Bar’. It was magnificent, furnishings denoted the splendour of Buckingham Palace, no American heiress could resist it! and sure enough there she was sitting in a velvet-lined booth looking a million dollars. About 40-ish, beautifully coiffured and wearing very expensive clothes, so Lorna said at a quick glance. Jon took a quick look and saw the double-row pearl necklace intertwined with diamonds, and the rings, about six of them all catching the light amazingly. Just before he took his gaze away, the woman smiled a long come-hither sort of smile. He returned it with a very quick one and then turned back to Lorna, and said,” No lovey-dovey, you’re my sister, okay?”
“Yes,” she said, “I understand.” She then stood up and said,”I’m very tired, I’ve got a headache too, see you in the morning,” she added.
“Okay, sleep well,” Jon said, hoping that Lorna’s words were loud enough for the woman to hear. He sat back in the velvet luxury, and sipped gently at his drink.
“Been stood up?” an American accent asked.
Jon looked over the booth edge, and said, “Oh, no, my sister’s had a hard day, what with the drive down here etc., “ he explained.
“May I join you?” the woman enquired with good old American get-up-and-go.
“No,” Jon said, smiling, “I’ll join you. I’ve actually brought her away on this trip, she’s going through a very messy divorce so I thought it would take her mind off of things,” he added.
“Oh, I know what it’s like,” she said, laughing, “been there, done that, got the book!” she laughed again, “I hope she’s taking the bastard for every penny, like I did. By the way, my name’s Helen, Helen Smuthson, I’ve been doing Europe, fabulous! Paris, Rome, Venice, Naples, Sicily, oh and of course, London, wonderful London. I had three nights at the Ritz, wow! what a hotel,” she enthused.
“I’m Jonathan Weston,” he replied, “I sell very expensive cars to very rich people,” and held out his hand. She took it and held on to it for longer than necessary, during which time he had a closer look at her diamond rings. Oh, lovely lady, if only you knew what was going on in my mind, he thought. The ‘hand-holding’ spoke volumes to Jon, she was just what he was looking for, and on the first night too! How lucky, he thought, it gave him two or three days to gain her confidence. But he couldn’t be seen with her too often, he was so glad he had brought Lorna along, he would be seen mainly with her and had laid the foundations of the story to Helen, should things progress as he hoped they would.
They sat drinking and talking for most of the evening, until Helen said, “That’s it for me, I’m bushed, I think I’ll go to bed.”
“I hope to see you again,” Jon said as he stood.
“How about seeing a girl back to her cabin?” Helen said with a wicked smile.
“Of course,” Jon said, “and then I must turn in as well, after I’ve checked on my sister,” he added.
They reached her suite door, she took his hand and kissed him quite passionately, and said, “Goodnight, lovely man!” She opened the door, turned and blew him a kiss.
“Goodnight, Helen,” he said, and walked down the corridor thinking that before he went for it with Helen, he’d see what else was available on board. After all, there were a lot of women on the ship, especially Americans, and it pays to shop around.
At breakfast he told Lorna all about the previous evening, she had been asleep when he got back to the cabin. “Just remember, no sitting close, no hand holding and no kissing, even though we want to, we are brother and sister. This is business, and let’s hope it’ll be very profitable,” he expressed.
“Kiss me!” Lorna said.
“No, even though I want to!” he said, “Tonight we’re in the casino after dinner, it’s not a formal night, so no glad rags. I’ve got some extra cash, plus the on-board spend so we might be able to check out the players, it’s where the ‘ladies’ go!” he said with a smile.
The casino was fairly busy with the roulette wheel spinning non-stop, with a full table of punters. Jon spotted Helen at one end of the table, feverishly placing chips on lots of numbers, but she must have been doing well as she had a large pile of chips in front of her. She spotted Lorna and Jon, and waved to them to join her, “Hi there, how are you two, hello Jon’s sister, I’m sorry we’ve not been introduced,” she said, all in one breath as the croupier pushed a pile of chips towards her.
“This is my sister, Lorna, and this lovely lady is Helen,” he said. They touched hands. “You’re doing well,” Jon said.
“Yeah, I’m $3000 up, but the evening is young,” she said. As she spoke, two chairs next to her became vacant as a couple of losers left. “There you go,” Helen said, “sit down.”
Jon reached into his pocket and took out a thousand dollars in 100’s. The croupier gave him the same amount in chips, he passed 300 over to Lorna, who was surprised. “You can’t sit at the table without playing,” he said, laughing. Beneath the table she squeezed his thigh, w
hich he moved quickly. Helen continued to win, and Jon also had a pile of chips amounting to $4000, but Lorna was down to her last $50. She looked very dejected, but she thought that Jon’s winnings covered more than her loss. Helen yelped as she got a ‘zero’, which made her about $5000. In total she was $10,000 in front, the die was cast, she would be the one, Jon thought. But he would play the waiting game, after all she could lose the lot tomorrow night! He decided to play it very cool, until the time was right. Mid-Atlantic would be the time, three days to go he said to himself.
The next night was formal, Jon and Lorna were dressed up, DJ for Jon and quite a cleavage-revealing dress for Lorna. Jon had said that the dress was too open at the top, Lorna said, “Darling, I’m your sister remember, I might get off with a nice man,” she laughed, “they like tits!” she laughed again. Jon ignored her frivolity and guided her into the dining room. They were shown to a table where there was only one other couple, Tony and Georgie, Tony being the man. They introduced themselves as brother and sister. Tony had trouble keeping his eyes from Lorna’s cleavage. They were joined by another couple, getting on in years, Victor and Linda, very boring Jon thought. They were only interested in the menu and wine list, no conversation.
When they finally joined in any conversation, Victor turned it to his hobby, buses! “Did you know,” he said, “that a London Routemaster double decker was good for two million miles?” he enthused. “Obviously new parts were fitted over that time, but one would last 20 years.”
“Yes,” said Tony, “my mother had a broom like that!” They all laughed, but Victor turned red and fell silent as the obvious mickey-take was taken the wrong way, but it was only meant in fun.
