The Lion's Diamonds

by Richard Auffrey

  Once I got into my room, I opened the deposit bag to see how much money was in there. Instead, I found stacks of newspapers strips and not a single dollar bill. Someone had played me perfectly and that child-fucking priest was my top suspect.

  He knew I was a convicted thief. He had full access to the safe. And he was desperate, a pedophile being blackmailed by a Russian gangster. I was the perfect fall guy. Father Hanlon was now an eye witness, having seen me in front of the open safe.

  Ilya would come for me to recover his money. He wouldn’t believe me when I accused the priest. Or at least he wouldn’t believe me until after he tortured me. I didn’t want to go that far to clear my name.

  I needed to find somewhere to hide but I needed more money first. I also wanted more information as I needed to know what I faced. Had the priests called the police or just Ilya?

  Though I was hesitant, my best savior might be Kasey. I trusted her more, thinking the priest was the guilty one. Kasey had money, which she hopefully could lend me, and she would know how much Ilya knew. I also had to admit to myself, I missed her body.

  She’d be pissed that I changed the plans and tried to steal the diamonds on my own but I’d lie and tell her that I wanted it to be a present for her, or something else that might assuage her suspicions. I didn’t need to tell her that I’d planned to leave the country without her.

  I got a few hours sleep, knowing it was too late to call her. I figured I’d be safe in the motel for a few days at least. No one had followed me here and I’d changed my car’s license plate. There was no reason they would look for me here.

  ***

  Monday

  I woke early and immediately turned on the television to catch the local news. I didn’t see anything about a church robbery so I suspected Chamberlain contacted Ilya but not the police. That made it easier for me as I only had to hide out from Ilya and not the cops too. The cops had more resources than Ilya so I felt safer at the motel.

  About eight, I called Kasey. It was time to smooth things over with her.

  “What the hell happened? Ilya’s going berserk,” exclaimed Kasey.

  “I think Father Chamberlain stole the diamonds and is trying to frame me,” I replied.

  “I don’t understand. What the hell happened?”

  I needed to color the events, to make sure Kasey didn’t think that I’d tried to betray her.

  “I went to scope out the room with the safe and I found the safe door already open. I thought Father Hanlon might have accidentally left it open when he put the Sunday night collections in the safe. He’s getting old and can be forgetful. When I peeked inside, the diamonds were already gone.”

  “Fuck!”

  “It had to be Father Chamberlain. No one else had access and Hanlon’s clueless.”

  “How does Ilya know they were taken?”

  “When I was looking into the empty safe, the two priests showed up and caught me. I bet Chamberlain called Ilya and accused me of stealing them.”

  “Ilya wants to string you up by your balls. Where are you right now? Your apartment won’t be safe.”

  “I’m at a discrete motel.”

  “Have you heard of Krov?” I detected a slight tremor in her voice. Was that fear?

  “I think he’s a Russian enforcer.” The name was vaguely familiar. I think I might have heard the name on the news before.

  “He’s much more than that. He’s a ruthless killer, a survivor of the gulags, and a relentless hunter. Over six feet tall, burly and covered in prison tats. His face resembles a broken spider web of scars and his hands are gnarled masses of gristle and bone. Ilya ordered him to find you. And he will, it’s just a matter of time.”

  Damn, I didn’t want some psycho Russian killer on my trail.

  “Were the police contacted?” I asked.

  “No, just Ilya.”

  I needed to find the diamonds to save myself. I had to confront Father Chamberlain and get the diamonds from him. He was a pedophile so I could use that as leverage. Plus, I doubted he could resist any physical persuasion.

  How could I get to the rectory? I’m sure it would be watched by Ilya’s men. Could I grab Chamberlain when he was out of the church running errands?

  “Leo, do ya need some money? Or company?”

  I pondered that for a few moments and then replied, “Yeah, both.”

  “Which motel you at?”

  I hesitated. Should I trust her? Would she tell Ilya where I was hiding? I felt so fucked. I had to risk it though as I needed Kasey’s money and I craved her body. She might also be my only way to keep track of Ilya.

  I gave her the name of the motel and my room number and she said she would be there within two hours.

  Once I hung up with Kasey, I called my best friend, Freddy Tankman, the only person I could fully trust. I knew he had little money so he couldn’t help me in that regard but I needed someone trustworthy. Plus, he had lots of connections and there wasn’t much he couldn’t get, though it might be pricey.

  I’d known Freddy since high school and he was an original member of my crew. Over the years, we’ve always had each other’s back. He used to be a superb second-story man, able to climb almost any wall and totally fearless.

  Over three years ago, Freddy, Paul Canon, and I staged the rip-off of an asshole coke dealer. He was an independent, trying to insinuate himself into Boston, and refused to pay any respect to the established dealers. By ripping him off, we wouldn’t piss off any of the established gangs and probably would even be thanked.

  The rip-off went down well, we didn’t have to kill anyone and we scored five kilos of pure Colombian and nearly a million in cash. The coke dealer, who called himself Sno-Conz, took a beating, and we broke both his legs, his left wrist and a few ribs. He promised to leave Boston and he was scared enough that we believed him.

  We stashed the coke and money at Freddy’s house, as he had built in some clever hiding spots in his basement. Paul and I both lived in small apartments which would never have worked for storage. I fully trusted Freddy and didn’t worry he’d cut us out.

  Six days later, when we felt safe no one had identified us as the thieves, I went over to Freddy’s place so we could finally divvy up the score and decide on where to sell the coke. Paul was late and didn’t answer his cell. As we sat in Freddy’s kitchen, chugging a few beers and waiting for Paul, the police pounded on the door, claiming they had a search warrant.

  We contemplated fleeing out the back but a quick look through a window showed that the house was surrounded. We had no choice but to let them in. I took a good, long look at the warrant though I wasn’t a lawyer and wouldn’t know whether it was good or not. There was no reason we could stop them so they began their search.

  Though a couple cops went upstairs, they came back down quickly and then told the others that no one else was up there. The majority of the fucking cops went down into the basement and somehow knew exactly where the money and drugs were hidden. We’d been betrayed and the immediate suspect was Paul.

  I’d known Paul for seven years and wouldn’t have thought him capable of doing such though maybe he’d been arrested and the cops threatened him, somehow getting him to break. That wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to remain silent, trusting the police couldn’t pin anything on us.

  Freddy and I were arrested and there still was no sign of Paul. We lawyered up, eventually learning the police found a kilo of coke, fifty thousand dollars and our unlicensed pistols. Our fingerprints were all over their discovery. Paul was nowhere to be found and the police didn’t seem to be looking for him.

  Obviously, he’d ripped us off, tipped off the police and then fled with the rest of the coke and the money. Freddy and I eventually pled out, knowing we probably couldn’t win at trial, and went to MCI Walpole together. That was helpful, to have someone we each knew would cover the other’s back. In prison, you need at least one trusted friend.

  About four months into our sentence, we le
arned Paul had been found in the Charles River, two shots to the back of his head. Someone had used a Sharpie to write “Snitch” on the front of his shirt. Neither Fred nor I shed a tear. We tried reaching out, to see who might have clipped Paul, but couldn’t learn anything.

  Three months later, Freddy was stabbed in the back with a sharpened screwdriver, a case of mistaken identity. He ended up paralyzed from the waist down and confined to a wheelchair. Two weeks later, I cornered his attacker, some Neo-Nazi scumbag who called himself Mengele, in an empty gym and bashed in his fucking skull with a twenty-pound weight.

  The guards weren’t able to pin his murder on me and I don’t think they tried too hard to find out who did it. The scumbag’s Aryan buddies avidly sought out the killer but they had no evidence to pin it on me and there were plenty of other suspects. Mengele had made many enemies.

  Freddy got out six months before I did but we’ve always remained in contact. He couldn’t go on any more heists but wanted to keep in the game so he got into computers. Using something he referred to as the dark web, he was able to stay in touch with numerous criminals, gather illicit information and fence stolen goods. He went by the moniker of ShermanM4.

  He was the only person I knew that I fully trusted.

  “Freddy, I’m in trouble.”

  “Whatcha need?”

  Good old Freddy. Always there for me. The reasons for my trouble were unimportant. All that mattered to him was how he could help me.

  “In short, I’ve been set up. A Russian gangster thinks I stole five million in diamonds from him and sent a psycho killer, Krov, after me. I was framed by a pedophile priest and I need to get the diamonds from him. Right now, I’m hiding out in a motel on Route 1.”

  “Which one?”

  I gave him the name and my room number.

  “Freddy, you probably need to hide as well. When they come looking for me, they might seek out my friends and that Krov psycho probably won’t be above torture. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll pack a bag and get my neighbor to take me to a hotel.”

  “Don’t wait too long.”

  “I won’t.”

  We discussed what else I needed and made plans to try to get me out of this situation. As he was in a wheelchair, his options were limited in some respects but he would still do anything for me. As I would for him. Together, we’d find a way out of this mess, hopefully avoiding any confrontation with the savage Krov.

  And maybe there was a way for me to end up with Kasey.

  Chapter Four

  Monday

  As I waited for Kasey to arrive, I continually peered out from the edge of the ratty curtains to watch the parking lot. I didn’t need any more surprises.

  At different times, I saw suited businessmen pull into the lot and get a room. A short time later, those men were joined by ladies who unquestionably were hookers. Some afternoon delight. A tattooed biker, with a gleaming bald head, stopped in the motel office and ended up in the room next to mine. A drug dealer? A car of four kids, two boys and two girls, drove in and entered a room together, carrying a case of beer. Party time. Fortunately, they were several doors down so I wouldn’t be bothered by any noise they made.

  The typical people who used this no-questions asked motel. None of them had a Slavic look to them. There also didn’t seem to be anyone sitting in a car in the parking lot.

  Kasey finally showed up in a silver Lexus and she was alone in the car. As she walked out of the car, wearing a short gray skirt that showcased her shapely legs, she was carrying a couple of paper bags. I let her into my room and she placed the bags on a table.

  We embraced, kissing passionately, and I felt the intense heat of her body close to mine. After maybe a minute, I reluctantly pushed away from her arms, knowing we needed to talk before losing ourselves in each other.

  “I got you a roast beef and fries from Kelly’s,” she said. “Plus a bottle of bourbon.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.”

  As I opened the bag and unwrapped the sandwich, Kasey said, “Ilya’s frantic and Krov’s been ordered to do anything it takes to find you and recover the diamonds. He’s still a little worried that Father Chamberlain is involved so he has some of his men watching the church.”

  “It’ll be tough to get to Chamberlain but I have to find a way.”

  “Ilya’s boss, Levushka, is also desperately seeking the diamonds, though he’s pursuing a black gang. He fell for Ilya’s ruse so we don’t have to worry about his men. I doubt he’ll ever realize Ilya screwed him over.”

  As I ate my rare roast beef, I said, “I think I have a solution. I need a priest’s outfit. With it, I could probably sneak into the church and once inside, I can confront Chamberlain.”

  Kasey smiled, “That could work.”

  “Could you pick up a priest’s outfit for me?”

  “Sure.”

  With a playful look, Kasey then said, “I’m hungry.”

  I offered her a bite of the roast beef but she shook her head. “No, I want you.”

  I put the sandwich down and reached out to Kasey’s sexy body. She was an insatiable minx and I wasn’t complaining.

  Two hours later, after a quick shower, she left, to find me a priest outfit. I finished the rest of the sandwich and the cold French fries, accompanied by a drink of Blanton’s.

  I turned on the television and it was all the same old shit, from the Patriots crushing the Jets to alleged corruption at the State House. There was nothing about a church robbery or a psycho Russian. In addition, there was nothing new about the body that was found next to the Russian bakery. At least my face wasn’t plastered all over the screen, which meant it would be easier to hide.

  When Kasey eventually returned, she had a priest outfit as well as a fedora, some make-up and hair dye. She helped me with my disguise, making me seem like an older priest, and she did an excellent job. We waited until after dinner time and then I drove to the church while she went to see Ilya again, to learn more about his plans.

  I parked a bit down the street and then walked to the church, leaning on a cane, trying to be inconspicuous as I sought out anyone watching the church. I saw at least three Slavic looking men, of a hard sort, keeping an eye on the area. Though they all stared at me, none of them approached so I guessed the disguise was successful.

  I figured there might even be a Russian or two inside the church but I had to attempt it. Unless I got the diamonds from Chamberlain, I was a dead man. And once inside the church, I’d have to work fast, to get the priest to tell all. The more time I spent inside, the more chance I could be caught.

  My hair was much lighter, almost white, rather than its usual chestnut brown. With my glasses and cane, I certainly seemed like an innocuous older priest. As I approached the main doors into the church, no one tried to stop me, even just to question my presence.

  I stepped inside the church, removing my hat, and it was largely empty except for a couple elderly women, kneeling and praying, and one Russian, another hard man, sitting near the back. I slowly walked down the aisle, relying on my cane, toward the altar, nodding to the two women. The Russian didn’t move from his seat, apparently satisfied with my appearance.

  I walked to one of the side rooms and then headed directly to Chamberlain's room. The clock was ticking and every second counted.

  Gently turning the door knob, I found it wasn’t locked so I slipped into the room. Chamberlain was present, sitting with his back to the door, immersed in a book at his desk.

  I crept up to him and then grabbed his left shoulder while palming my other hand over his mouth.

  "Be very quiet or you're dead. Understand?" I snarled.

  He nodded several times.

  “I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth. Don’t yell or raise your voice or you’ll die.”

  He nodded again. I removed my hand and placed it on his right shoulder, ready to clap it over his mouth if he tried to cry out.
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br />   "Where's the diamonds?” I said.

  “What diamonds?”

  I cuffed the side of his head, hard enough to make his ears ring. “Don’t even try that shit.”

  He trembled a bit and then said, "Ilya has them.”

  “Don’t fuck with me. Ilya was going to store the diamonds in the safe for a week.”

  “That was the original plan but it changed.”

  “What happened?”

  As I looked down at his desk, I saw that he had been reading a travel guide for Thailand. A country I heard was a haven for pedophiles.

  "On Sunday morning, Ilya showed up and took the diamonds back. He said he had a premonition that they weren’t safe here. I was glad he took them so I wouldn’t have to worry about them any longer.”

  Had Kasey betrayed me and warned Ilya that I might steal them? Maybe she thought it would be easier for her to steal them in their new hiding place. I should’ve expected such a betrayal. It had been too good to be true.

  "Why does Ilya want to kill me now?"

  “Well, I had to tell Ilya that you tried to steal from the safe. He still has my pictures. I’m sorry but it was either my life or yours. I regret what I did but I can't change it."

  So, Ilya wanted to kill me just because I tried to steal his diamonds, though they hadn’t even been in the safe? Yeah, he was a crazy motherfucker.

  But could I trust the priest? I wasn’t fully convinced by his story though it seemed plausible. It still was possible that Chamberlain was lying, had stolen the diamonds and was trying to frame me. I needed to apply a bit more pressure, to force the truth out of him.

  Father Chamberlain suddenly screamed, his voice booming through the room. I slugged the priest, a bone crushing fist to the side of his face, knocking him out of his chair. I didn't wait to see the damage.

  I hurried out of his room and toward the back door, making it outside without incident. As I moved toward the front of the church, almost reaching the sidewalk, I heard a voice in a Russian accent yell from behind me, "That's him!"