Rocks Beat Paper

by Mike Knowles

  “My God.”

  “We did get something, though.”

  “What?”

  “We got the text she was supposed to send. She gave up the number and what she was supposed to tell Ismail to let him know you were dead. With you dead, we can send the text to Ismail.”

  “What? And let him rob my store?” Saul bellowed. “My store?” His voice carried down the empty street and woke a sleeping dog. A series of angry barks and snarls let us know how the dog felt about the noise.

  Miles put his hand on Saul’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. “Mr. Mendelson, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, why don’t we just arrest Ismail and end this?”

  Saul shrugged the hand away. “You’re damn right.”

  “All we have is the word of a dead woman,” I said.

  “And whose fault is that?”

  “Ismail,” Miles said. “It’s his fault. Her death is on him, not us. You know who else he is responsible for killing?”

  “Who?” Saul seemed genuinely unaware of the answer despite the fact that we had hung the responsibility for David’s death on the security guard.

  “David,” Miles said. “He killed David. Remember?”

  Saul, suddenly lucid again, waved a hand. “Of course I remember. David was like a son to me.”

  “The words of David and Amina — two dead people — aren’t enough to arrest Ismail. We need more. We need to catch him in the act if we want to get him.”

  “How does that do anything for David?”

  Miles didn’t have a quick response. I had given him the broad strokes in the car, but he had been too mad at me to ask about the whole picture.

  I took a step to the right so Saul could see my face; I could tell he wasn’t thrilled about it. “Because we won’t arrest just him. We are going to pick up his whole crew, and the first person who connects Ismail to David’s murder gets to walk. Make no mistake, we are going to get Ismail for the robbery and for the murder.”

  “But not unless I help you by letting these thugs break into my store.”

  “You have nothing to worry about,” Miles said. “Their whole plan hinges on there being no sign of a break-in. The store will be exactly as you left it.”

  “Except for the diamonds in my safe,” Saul said.

  Miles let his full smile loose. “We have that covered. Follow me.”

  Saul and I followed Miles to the trunk of the fake unmarked police sedan. He raised his hand in the air and I tossed him the keys. Miles popped the trunk and took a step back. “We’ve been working on this for a couple of days. We had to call in a couple of favours, but I think we did a pretty great job.”

  Saul stepped up to the bumper and looked inside. He squinted and then placed his hand on the rim of the trunk and bent down to look deeper inside. When he stood, he was holding a necklace.

  “What the hell is this?”

  “It’s a necklace from your store,” Miles said.

  “No, it’s not. There is nothing like this in my collection. Plus, it’s fake.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “That it isn’t part of my collection?”

  “That it’s fake.”

  It was Miles’s turn to get a dirty look from Saul. “Because it’s obvious. You couldn’t fool me with this.”

  “We don’t need to fool you,” I said. “We need to fool a security guard and some Sudanese criminals who are going to be emptying your two safes as fast as possible.”

  Saul dropped the necklace back into the case in the trunk. “It’s crap.” He went into the trunk and pulled out another piece. He gave the second necklace barely more than a glance before tossing it back into the trunk. “It’s all crap.”

  Miles picked up the necklace and held it up in the streetlight. “It might not be a perfect match, but I would hardly call it crap. You think they’re crap because you know what to look for. But Ismail isn’t like you, he’s like me. He’ll see some shiny rocks and that will be enough for him. He’s not going to check the stones. Why would he? They’re in your safe. That will be enough for him.” Miles let the necklace fall back into the case and turned his smile back on. “You haven’t seen the best part yet.”

  Miles went into the trunk and pulled out a velvet bag. “Check these out.”

  Saul took the bag and reached inside. The stones he pulled out were small and yellow. He looked at them one by one in the streetlight and then walked to the driver’s side door. Saul opened the door and turned on the headlights. The jeweller used the light to evaluate the diamonds.

  “We had to raid the evidence lockers for those. You can’t tell me they’re fake,” Miles said.

  “No,” Saul confirmed. “They’re not. What they are is more crap. What the hell am I supposed to do with these?”

  “They go in the safe in your office. We know that’s where you keep your uncut stones.”

  “You do?”

  Miles nodded.

  Saul took the diamond away from the light and walked back to the driver’s seat. He reached inside the cruiser and turned off the headlights. “How did you come to know about what was in my safe?”

  “David, Saul,” Miles said. “He didn’t give us specific details, but he did mention uncut stones in your safe.”

  “He mentioned them?”

  Miles nodded. “He believed they were one of the reasons the thieves were targeting you. I don’t think I have to tell you how easy uncut stones are to move. But you know all of this already, Saul. We went over this the other day on the phone. We used your input to come up with this plan. Your ideas are what make this sting possible. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  I looked at Miles. There was never a phone conversation with Saul about any of this. There was never even a conversation with me about this. Miles was making a very dangerous play. I glanced at Saul and saw that he was staring at Miles, too. Miles was gambling on Saul’s dementia; worse, he was gambling on Saul being aware of his dementia. Saul had been slipping for years and Miles was betting that he had developed a habit of covering his ignorance of his own actions by playing along as though he were up to speed on everything.

  Three long seconds went by before Saul nodded. “I’m glad I could help.”

  “So you’re still on board?” Miles asked.

  Saul kept his eyes on the diamonds and fakes in the trunk while he thought about it. Everything had led to this moment and there was nothing left to do but wait. We had created a lie that placed Saul and his business in the centre of a fantastic tale of greed, revenge, and international intrigue. The story was far-fetched, but those were the kind that were the easiest to sell. It wasn’t the details that would make the tale believable, it was the way it made Saul feel. The whole story put Saul at the centre of everything: an international gang of criminals was after him and the only way to stop them was for him to lead a police sting. It made Saul seem important, and that was good. People want to feel important more than they want sex or money; the success of our grift was dependent on how important it made Saul feel.

  Saul picked up one of the real uncut diamonds we had taken off Donny. He held it up in the moonlight and shook his head. “No one who knows anything about diamonds will ever believe this is one of mine. But if this is the only way we can get them, well, then I’m on board.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Saul insisted on changing before we drove him to his store. We told him that we didn’t have a lot of time, but there was no changing his mind. He also demanded to ride up front with us the whole way there. I said no, but Miles caved and gave up his seat.

  Saul grumbled about our diamonds the whole way there while Miles lobbed excuses and apologies from the back seat. I was happy when we pulled to the curb in front of Mendelson’s and was able to diffuse the argument with the words, “We’re here.”

 
Saul looked out the window and nodded. “Open the trunk and wait for me here.”

  “No,” Miles said. “We’ll come in with you. We can help you carry everything.”

  Saul turned his head to look over the seat. “Kid, I’m already letting one group of people look inside my safes tonight. I am not doing it twice.”

  Miles started to speak, but Saul cut him off.

  “I don’t care if you are the law. This is my business. Mine alone. That means I do this myself.”

  I tried to make Saul see it our way, but he dismissed me with a wave of his hand. Miles tried to sweet-talk him, but Saul wouldn’t budge. Eventually, Miles gave in and I had no choice but to play along. Saul took the diamonds and, with our help, wheeled the case up the stairs and into the store.

  He told us it would take a few minutes — it had been ten when Miles said, “What do you think sold him on this?”

  I looked at Miles leaning his back against the hood, and then I looked back at the store.

  Miles kept on talking. “I think he feels a duty to David. He loved the kid. Love makes people do stupid things.”

  I looked at my watch. Eleven minutes. Miles caught my look. “He’s been in there awhile.”

  “More than a few minutes,” I said.

  “He’s an old man. It’s late. Maybe he had to pee. I hear that’s a thing with old men. Something to do with the prostate. You ever get yours checked?”

  I glanced at my watch again.

  Miles looked at his dick. “I’m thinking about it.”

  I got off the hood and walked around to the driver’s side. At thirteen minutes, I opened the door and turned the key in the ignition.

  Miles looked at the door to Mendelson’s. “He coming out?”

  Through the open door, I said, “Something is wrong.” I put the car in drive and kept my food on the brake.

  Miles opened his door and leaned in. “We are not leaving, not after everything that’s happened. There are millions in there.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “There are millions in there. We’re out here, and unless Saul opens that door we are not getting near anything inside.”

  “What? You think he made us?”

  I didn’t know. I hadn’t seen him flinch or any other sign that indicated Saul suddenly didn’t trust us.

  Miles got into the car but left his door open. “You know what’s weird about Saul?”

  Miles had my interest. “What?”

  “David led us to believe that this guy needed help to eat his applesauce, but for an old, senile guy, he was incredibly hard to work. Usually, you can con the elderly into almost anything without breaking a sweat, but this guy — this guy made us earn every inch we got.”

  Miles was right. Saul had never once let us manipulate him blindly; we had to work to convince him to do everything. It wasn’t even we — it had been Miles who had done most of the talking. Early on, Saul decided that he hated me as much as he liked Miles. We had rolled with it because we had no other choice. Something snagged in my head. A thought was there, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

  I looked at my watch — fifteen minutes.

  I tugged on the line. “Why does he hate me?”

  Miles laughed. “I didn’t take you for a sensitive soul, Wilson. I don’t know. Why do most people hate you? You’re cold, you’re mean, you shoot people you know . . .”

  I tugged harder on the line and felt something coming. “But why does Saul hate me?”

  “Who knows? Just thank your lucky stars that you were smart enough to bring me along. Saul liked me.”

  There was no reason that Saul should have hated me so much; at least, not one that I could decipher. I took a slow breath in. If I was right, and there was no reason why he should have hated me, then it was a conscious decision — a play.

  “There’s something I’m not seeing,” I said.

  “Jesus, do you hear yourself. He doesn’t like you. That is nothing new. Sometimes, I don’t like you.” Miles slapped the dashboard. “You know what your problem is? You’re not mad that he doesn’t like you; you’re just mad that you couldn’t run everything. You can’t handle letting anyone else call the shots.”

  Then, I got it. All of it.

  “I call the shots?”

  Miles threw up his hands. “I’m amazed you didn’t pick out my underwear for this.”

  “It’s that obvious.”

  Miles laughed. “It would take a real idiot not to notice.”

  “Do you think Saul is an idiot?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You let him go in there alone,” I said.

  Miles turned to face me. He raised his voice. “You’re blaming this on me? Gee, I wonder why Saul doesn’t like you more.”

  “Listen to what I am saying. You let him walk in there alone. You made that call. I wouldn’t have.”

  “Fuck you. You are such an asshole. Do you know that? If you didn’t like the way I played it, you should have said something.”

  “That’s my point. Once you made the call, I couldn’t say anything. It would have tipped Saul off.”

  “What are you saying?”

  There were three possibilities; I laid them out for Miles. “One: Saul is taking his time switching the diamonds. Two: Saul made us tonight, and he’s not coming out. Three: Saul’s not coming out because he was on to us from the start and he’s the one who is running the con.”

  The patrol car coming down the street eliminated option one and made the other choices momentarily irrelevant. Whether Saul made us tonight or two weeks ago didn’t matter. It was time to leave.

  Miles punched the dashboard. “Fucking diamonds and hitches.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  I took my foot off the brake and Miles pulled his foot inside.

  “We’re bailing?”

  “We have company,” I said.

  Miles turned his head and saw the cop. “Shit. You think it was Saul?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why no lights and sirens?”

  As if on cue, the police car lit up and interrupted the dull hum of three a.m. in the city.

  “I just had to say it,” Miles said. “I just had to fucking say it.”

  I took a right at the first corner I saw and pulled to the side of the road. I was double-parked, but at three in the morning no one was going to complain about it.

  “What are we doing?” Miles wasn’t panicked; he just wanted to be on the same page.

  I watched the rear-view as the cop pulled to a stop behind us. I could see him reach for the radio. Two hundred metres in front of me, the light was green.

  “Is he getting out?” Miles was too smart to turn his head to look.

  “No. He’s running the plates and calling for backup.”

  “Shit.”

  The light went yellow, and I moved my foot to the right. The hard acceleration surprised Miles and he fought the pull towards the seat. “Holy shit.”

  “Buckle up,” I said.

  Miles got his seat belt on as the nose of the Ford entered the intersection. The cruiser was behind us, but it wasn’t on our bumper yet. The cop’s hands had been busy with whatever electronics were in his car and his mind was distracted when I hit the gas. We had gotten ahead of him, but it wasn’t a race — the game was tag and we were it. I went right at the corner and heard the tires whine as they tried to find a solid grip on the road. I pushed the pedal hard to the floor and let the Ford get twenty metres up the wrong way of a one-way street before I again took advantage of the early morning traffic conditions. I hit the brakes and cut the wheel, sending the Ford into a tight aggressive U-turn. I was back on the gas the second I saw the stoplights of the intersection and drove the Ford back into the intersection just as the cop started to mimic my previous turn around the corner.

/>   The cop saw us coming, but it was too late for him to do anything about it; he had committed to the turn and he had to see it out before he could turn around. I took a right at the intersection and fed the engine more gas. A street opened up on my left and I cut across the road and the car in the other lane to get to it.

  New York streets were essentially a grid, and in the pre-dawn hours the traffic was light enough to allow me to weave through the grid at a speed faster than a jog. I kept the car moving in a zigzag and by the fourth turn, there was no longer any sign of the cop that had been chasing us.

  “Pull over,” Miles said. “We can ditch the car and walk away.”

  That had been my plan until a second police car turned out of a side street ahead of us. I gave the Ford some gas and gripped the wheel tighter while I waited for the cop to respond. The cop wasn’t interested in a head-on collision, and he opted instead to let us pass and fall in behind us with lights and sirens.

  “We’re not going to outrun this one, Wilson.” Miles reached into his coat and withdrew his pistol. “Not on our own, anyway.”

  “Put the gun away,” I said.

  “You serious?”

  In the rear-view, I saw another cruiser swing onto the street and join the chase.

  Miles turned to look out the rear window when he heard the duet of sirens. “Great, now there’s two. Just great. Alright, new plan. I’m going to tell them you kidnapped me and made me do it. I’d be grateful if you played along.”

  I ignored Miles and kept tracking the streets.

  “We’re fucked,” Miles said.