by Jesse Reiss
Chapter 23
Paula completed her duties at work and left the office early, heading to Beverly Hills Coins and Precious Metals. She walked in the door and was greeted by Samuel at the counter, who looked too delighted to see her.
“Come Paula, come, come!” Though they had met only once and she had physically attacked him, she was his new best friend. Before she could speak he whisked her back to his office where he pulled a piece of paper off the printer. “Look at this!”
Paula took the printout, which was an email and tried to read it. It was about the gold coin, she could tell that much. It was filled with jargon and abbreviations that made no sense to her. She shook her head and handed it back to him. “I have no clue what this means.”
“I sent the coin to PCGS — that’s the Professional Coin Grading Service — as I said I would and they emailed me back with this report. I spoke to my contact there as well and they are more excited about this find than I am. They haven’t seen one of these coins in decades!”
“So, what does this mean?” Paula said with a shrug.
“It means the coin is real! See,” he said pointing to the paper, “They have given it a grade of 65, which is excellent — near mint condition. A true gem!”
Paula shook her head and smiled. “So what do I do now? I mean taking that other gold coin from you was probably the most stupidest thing I’ve ever done and looks like it got someone killed, literally.”
“Oh,” he said quietly, his enthusiasm dampened. “Was that the man they pulled from the LA River this morning?”
“How did you know?”
“Saw it on the news. Police said they have linked the killer to an attempted abduction in the park and I figured that had something to do with what you were talking about on Saturday. I heard the attempt failed which was relieving. So I assume your daughter is safe, yes?”
“Yes, she’s safe.”
“Oh, that’s good.
“So…well…um…the next thing is the obvious question of do you want to sell the coin or keep it as a family heirloom?”
“I would be more than happy to never see that coin again for as long as I live. How would I sell it?”
“Oh, that’s wouldn’t be hard. I’ve got clients that would clamor at the chance to buy this coin. I could conduct an auction for it myself or use a professional auction house or locate a trusted buyer who would pay top dollar and sell it to them — for a commission of course. And I would pay myself back the coin you did take.”
“How much was that coin worth?”
“About four thousand.”
“How much do you think you could sell this coin for?”
“Oh, anywhere maybe from two to three million.”
The figure slowly sunk into her head and she felt very light. She felt her heart flutter at the thought of a couple million dollars appearing in her bank account. She was already worth a few hundred thousand from years of hard work creating the success of her jewelry shop, but this was too much to comprehend. “Wow…okay…yeah, go ahead and let’s sell it. Can you do it without having me or my daughter being identified as the seller?”
“Of course!” He said it like he could promise her the moon. “I’ll do just that!” He was giddy like a school kid again. The fame and recognition he would receive, as the seller of the coin — a sale of the decade — was greater than the healthy commission he was going to get. This would really put his store on the map. He hustled around gathering forms and slips.
Paula was still trying to comprehend the magnitude of what was occurring. “You mean to tell me that one coin that has thirteen stars on it is worth peanuts compared to a coin from the same era that looks exactly the same, but has only twelve stars?”
“It’s all about scarcity! The one-hundred-dollar bill is worth one hundred times more than the one-dollar bill only because we agree it is and because it is scarcer. The actual ink and paper quality are exactly the same.”
“So you are just selling significance?”
“And are you not as a jeweler?” he asked, laying out several confusing forms before her with tiny print no one was ever expected to read.
“I suppose, but at least in my business, the bigger and clearer the rock, the more it is worth.”
“True, but if that rock were once owned by Marilyn Monroe, oh boy, add many zeros to the price tag!”
“I’m getting sick of the whole thing. Let me give you my email and bank account information so I can get out of here.”
Paula signed several papers without reading a word on them and left the store having made one clear decision: She was definitely selling her business. Now there would be no financial concerns about doing so.
◊
After a couple hours with Sam, it got near time for Angelina to leave.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you’d been crying when you came back here,” Sam said quietly.
“Yeah, I was.”
“Those doctors ask you about me?”
“They did.”
“What did you tell them?”
“That they’ve got their head up their ass.”
He chuckled. “I’m not crazy am I Angie?”
“No, Sam. Not at all.”
“It seems they think that I can’t see because I’m crazy.”
“Yeah, stupid is what that is. You are so not crazy.”
He nodded. “Did you get interviewed by those men about that coin you found?”
Of course he remembers and has to ask me about that! “Yeah, a lot happened since I last saw you. Got into some trouble, but not due to something I did.”
“So you had a sucky weekend too, eh, like mine?”
“Oh, you have no idea how bad it was. But there was something good about it. I met this really cute guy and stayed the night at his house with my mom.”
His mouth went agape. “You did?”
She rolled her eyes. “I stayed with my Mom in the guest room,” she asserted. “I slept with her. It’s not like we are going out. I’m just saying I met a cute guy, that’s all — met him, nothing more — jeez.”
He giggled. “Did you kiss him?”
“No! We’re not even an item. He’s so not my type. He’s all brainy and into all sorts of weird complex stuff that makes no sense to me.”
“Sounds like you really like him.”
“Whatever!”
“What’s his name?”
“Neil Stanley. You better not tell anyone either,” she warned.
“Your secrets are safe with me, remember?”
