The Lion's Diamonds

by Richard Auffrey

  I bolted, knowing my disguise wouldn’t hold up to close scrutiny. I ran as fast as I could, cutting through backyards for cover and hoping to lose my pursuers. I held onto my cane, wanting to use it as a weapon if I was caught.

  A few bullets cracked the air but nowhere close to me though they motivated me to run faster. I kept trying to gain cover as I ran, hoping no stray bullet would strike me. I might be a big man but I could run when necessary, especially from men trying to kill me.

  I had a sufficient head start that I was able to lose them, though I had to abandon my car and hail a cab to take me back to my motel. I kept looking out the rear window to ensure no one saw me get inside the cab or tried to follow us.

  Once we reached the motel’s parking lot, I saw Kasey's car outside my room. However, when I got inside my room, she wasn’t there. I started to call her but stopped when she entered the room.

  "Where were you?" I asked.

  "I was talking to the manager, asking for more clean sheets and towels."

  She was carrying some off-white linens so I nodded.

  "How’d it go?" She asked.

  I decided to tell her what Chamberlain told me and gauge her reaction. I didn’t mention my suspicion that she had warned Ilya about me.

  "Shit, Ilya was smarter than I thought and left me in the dark. He never mentioned hiding the diamonds somewhere else," she said.

  Kasey seemed sincerely surprised.

  “It all depends on whether the priest was telling the truth or not, which I’m not sure he did. I didn’t have enough time to thoroughly question him.”

  She nodded. “I’ll try to get Ilya to let something slip. Now that I know what might have happened, I might be better able to determine when he’s lying to me.”

  “Can you cast some doubt on the priest? Ilya needs to redirect his efforts away from me.”

  “I’ll try, honey.”

  “I need to keep hiding out. I’m not sure there is much else I can do."

  “Once I learn more from Ilya, maybe some options will arise.”

  There was a brief silence as Kasey looked at me, running the tip of her tongue over her plump lower lip. She then said, “Well, we don’t want you to be bored sitting in this room.”

  Moments later, our clothes started flying and we rushed to the bed. Once again, she nearly fucked me into unconsciousness. With a big shit-eating grin locked on my face.

  She cleaned up and then left, to return to Ilya.

  Everything was getting more dangerous. Confronting a pedophile priest was easy. Confronting a Russian gangster could be suicidal. I was being played well, by someone, and I wasn’t sure who. Though I was worried about Kasey, she seemed to be sincere. I was most suspicious of Chamberlain, who seemed to have the greatest reason to lie.

  Maybe I needed to kidnap him, to get some private time to interrogate him. I knew a couple guys who could grab him for me, but I’d have to get more money from Kasey to pay them. I didn’t want to involve anyone else but I might have to do so.

  As a last resort, maybe I needed to leave Massachusetts. Head to Canada or maybe just California? If I couldn’t retrieve the diamonds, I’d probably end up dead, so I had to consider getting out of town before that happened.

  Tomorrow, I was supposed to check in with my probation officer but I wasn’t sure if either priest at the church had already called him. If so, my PO might be looking for me, ready to violate my ass and send me back to prison. I’d have to skip that meeting, which could also be considered a parole violation.

  Fuck that. Maybe leaving the state was my best choice. The heist should have been all so easy but instead, it was a complete fucked-up mess.

  Chapter Five

  Tuesday

  The next morning, I rose early, turned on the news and poured myself some bourbon. I perked up at the breaking news.

  Father Ralph Chamberlain had been murdered last night!

  I was shocked. Though the details were sketchy, sources claimed he’d been shot multiple times. No motive was currently known and there weren’t any suspects. More details would be forthcoming as the police investigation developed.

  For a moment, I was happy, thinking that maybe Ilya learned Chamberlain had betrayed him, recovered the diamonds and then whacked the priest. If so, maybe he’d no longer come after me. However, he might still see killing me as a matter of honor. I’d tried to steal from him, even if I hadn’t been successful, so maybe his twisted code required him to punish me.

  I realized that I might be able to save myself by telling Levushka that Ilya stole the diamonds from him. However, I had no proof of his involvement, except the word of a dead priest. And I couldn’t use Kasey as a source either. I should have taped my meeting with Father Chamberlain.

  Hopefully Kasey would have more info when she got back.

  As I continued watching the news, hoping for more details about the murder, I got a call from Freddy who had some background for me on Ilya. First though, I made sure he was safely hidden at a hotel. I didn’t want him to end up as a casualty of Krov or some other psychotic Russian enforcer.

  “I’m fine, Leo,” Freddy said. “And if your only problem was Ilya, it might not be too bad. He’s sometimes known as the Wolf because he likes chasing women. However, there’s a darker aspect too as he can be vicious towards hookers. His first kill, when he was 16, was the hooker who took his virginity. Ilya claims she tried to shake him down for more money and pulled out a knife when he refused to pay her more. He took the knife from her and cut her throat.

  “However, there’re a few people who claim the true story is that the hooker laughed at him, maybe cause his pecker was too small or he couldn’t get it up. In a rage, he killed her with a knife he usually carried. Since then, he might’ve killed a dozen hookers who’ve displeased him somehow.”

  “A real sweetheart.”

  “Yeah, and of course his main business ends up as prostitution. He runs some Eastern European spas and a number of outcall girls. In addition, he dabbles in taxis, loan sharking and a bit of designer drugs. He’s been trying to slowly expand his business, to become a major player in the Boston area.”

  “How big is his organization?” I asked.

  “Just a couple dozen men but he could see an influx in the near future. His father, Levushka Utkin, controls the Worcester region and Ilya is his eldest son. He gave Boston to Ilya and will provide him greater resources once he proves himself capable of generating sufficient cash. Ilya has a younger brother, Nikolai, who was sent to Springfield. It’s said Levushka likes Nikolai better and Ilya resents his father cause of this alleged favoritism.”

  “That might explain why Ilya stole the diamonds from his father.”

  “Possible. Levushka’s men robbed a Hasidic diamond merchant, stealing a brief case of diamonds worth at least five million. That money was going to be used to pay for a large shipment of military weapons, including rocket launchers and drones. While Levushka’s men transported the diamonds to a secure location, they were hit by a well-armed team. In the attack, a couple of Ilya’s men were killed, defending the diamonds.

  “There was some evidence that the thieves belonged to a black gang, the Masai Marauders, that is based in Worcester and has had several prior violent run-ins with Levushka’s gang. Levushka is desperate to recover the diamonds as if he can’t pay for the weapons, he could face a very angry supplier, one who might kill him for wasting their time. No one suspects Ilya was involved.”

  “If Levushka is killed, does Ilya take his place in the organization?”

  “Possible but not a given. Ilya’s still young and they might want someone with more experience, like one of his uncles. However, it would elevate Ilya’s position, maybe placing him as the number two.”

  “I need to find those diamonds.”

  “Yeah, well if Levushka suspects you, he’ll send his best men to find you, some bad-ass killers. Though I’m not sure any of them are worse their Krov, Ilya’s primary enforcer, a hulk o
f a man who knows more ways to kill than a Navy Seal. He’s completely loyal to Ilya, utterly relentless, and delights in causing pain. If you see him, run. Run very fast.”

  “Why is Krov working for Ilya and not Levushka?”

  “Rumor is that Ilya personally arranged Krov’s escape from a gulag.”

  “Thanks. Anything else?”

  “No, not right now but I still have feelers out. I’ll call you back soon. Be safe.”

  “I’ll try. Thanks again, my friend.”

  My situation hadn’t improved much, though I had more info than before. It might be possible to get Ilya on tape admitting to the theft of the diamonds. However, that would entail getting close to him, and if I did that, I might not survive the encounter.

  Would Kasey be willing to wear a wire for me? I needed leverage against Ilya and Kasey was my best chance at obtaining it, if she was willing to help.

  I threw some clothes on and walked down to the nearby gas station, which had a small, attached convenience store. I bought a few snacks, some water and a couple newspapers, the Globe and Herald.

  I probably needed a better place to hide and I began considering where I could go. I also thought more about leaving the area, relocating elsewhere, if I couldn’t gather the leverage I needed. Would Kasey run away with me? Doubtful.

  I suspected she wouldn’t go with me if I didn’t have much money. Without the diamonds, I’m sure my appeal to Kasey would lessen. A woman of that quality didn’t have to settle. I didn’t blame her for that. I understood her type. She deserved the best.

  As I walked back into the parking lot of the motel, passing by the clerk’s office, I froze in place as I saw someone opening the door into my room. A large Neanderthal who had to be Krov.

  He was close to six feet tall and seemed almost as broad, with thick, muscular arms, barely held in place by a black jersey. His hands were huge, the knuckles scarred and tattooed, as were the rest of his hands. I could see tattoos on his neck, peering out above the collar of his jersey. They were prison tats, not the slick work of a professional.

  His melon of a head was topped by a gray buzz cut and his face was crisscrossed with scars. His nose had been broken before, possibly multiple times, and one puckered scar at the left corner of his mouth pulled down, making it seem as if he had a perpetual half-scowl.

  At the rear of his waistband, outlined by his tightly fitting jersey, was some type of large handgun.

  Just before he stepped inside my room, he turned his head, maybe alerted by an almost supernatural sense. His dark eyes locked with mine and there was instant recognition, his scowl deepening.

  Wasting no time, I dropped my plastic bag of groceries and fled, running back toward the gas station. How the fuck had he found me so quickly? I didn’t want to think that someone had betrayed me, but I couldn’t think of another option at the moment.

  As my shoes pounded the pavement, and cars raced by me on the road to the left, I still could hear Krov chasing me, especially as he let loose numerous Russian curse words. Or at least that is what I assumed he was screaming at me. The one good thing was that I seemed to be outdistancing him. Running didn’t seem to be one of his strong suits.

  Once I reached the gas station, there was a Saugus police car parked near the front door of the convenience store. One of the cops was inside the store while his partner sat in the passenger seat, looking at his cell phone. I didn’t want to ask the cops for help, which could bring its own share of trouble, but maybe their presence alone would cause Krov to stop chasing me.

  I stood near the rear of the police car and used my phone to call a cab, telling them to meet me at the Dunkin Donuts just up the road. As I made the call, I saw Krov stop at the edge of the gas station parking lot, his eyes glaring at me.

  Now that the presence of the police had stopped Krov, I just needed to wait for the cab to make my escape. It shouldn’t take long to arrive. I was hopeful but that feeling quickly ended.

  Krov paused only for a few moments and then started walking again, directly toward me, and I noted his right hand hung down, partially concealed behind his leg, probably holding his gun. Was he going to kill me in front of the police?

  If I started to run now, I might attract the attention of the police, which I also didn’t want. What the fuck could I do?

  Krov raised his arm, holding a large revolver, maybe a .44 magnum, and I ducked down behind the back of the cop car.

  I wasn’t the target though.

  As the cop left the convenience shop, carrying a few scratchers, the revolver exploded twice and two bullets plowed into the cop’s face. He had to have died instantly, crumpling to the ground and spraying blood and brains on the glass doors of the store.

  The cop inside the car freaked out when he heard the thunderous roars of the revolver but couldn’t get out of the car, or reach his own weapon, before Krov shot him too, blasting through the front windshield.

  Several people at the gas station screamed, as everyone tried to hide behind their cars or flee. In the resultant chaos, I ducked and ran, cutting across the road where vehicles were stopped, waiting for an opening onto Route 1. At any moment, I feared a bullet might slam into my back, especially when I heard it fire a few more times.

  Fortunately, none of the bullets came near me but I heard others scream and suspected Krov had killed a few innocents. As I crossed the road, I saw a cab pulling into the lot of the Dunkin Donuts. I flagged the driver down, got into the cab and told him to immediately drive down Route 1, toward Lynnfield.

  As I looked out the rear window, I saw a police car, with a partially shattered windshield, pulling onto Route 1. It was Krov.

  He activated the police car’s lights and sirens as he pursued us. I said to the cab driver, “Don’t stop for the cop car. A psycho stole it and wants to kill me.”

  Looking behind us in his mirror, the driver, an elderly man wearing a Red Sox cap, replied, “I can’t avoid a police car. I don’t know you.”

  “Dammit, how much will it take?”

  “Got a thousand?”

  Looking through my wallet, I had only about a hundred and sixty.

  “How about $160? It’s all I got.”

  “Sorry, not for that little.”

  “This guy will kill ya too.”

  “I gotta pull over,” he said as he started to drive into the expansive parking lot of the Kowloon Restaurant.

  I prepared to jump out of the taxi as soon as it stopped and run for my life. However, Krov was directly on our tail, followed us into the lot and both vehicles stopped at almost the same time. I stepped outside of the car only a couple moments before Krov got out, his large revolver in his hand, and I knew I couldn’t run.

  I was going to die so I might as well face it like a man. I turned to face Krov, waiting for the bullet which would claim my life.

  Krov, in a thick Russian accent, said, “Get in back seat of car.”

  I didn’t have another option and at least he didn’t kill me immediately. I got into the rear of the police car, hoping I might have a chance to flee at some point. I looked around the backseat, seeking for anything that I could use as a weapon, but there was nothing.

  Krov walked up to the driver’s side of the cab and the elderly driver foolishly rolled down his window. Krov raised his gun and shot the driver in the face. It would have to be a closed casket.

  Without emotion, Krov got back into the police car and sped off.

  “Where we going?” I asked.

  “To see boss. Now, shut up.”

  I stopped talking and maybe five minutes later, we stopped in a hotel parking lot where we changed vehicles. As I entered the backseat of a new Lincoln, Krov handcuffed me to a ring atop a metal bar he had installed on the floor.

  From Route 1, we took 93 South into Boston, and then drove through the city into Brookline, where I assumed we’d meet Ilya. I continued to remain quiet, trying to determine how I could survive this encounter. Krov hadn’t immediately killed me s
o maybe I could find a way out of this mess.

  If Ilya wanted me alive, then maybe there was a chance I’d survive. I’d be willing to do almost anything to make up for my attempt at stealing his diamonds. I could try to claim that I didn’t know that I’d almost stolen from him, that I’d only been trying to steal the money from the collection plates. I considered myself a good liar so maybe I could persuade Ilya not to kill me.

  My hope was that he didn’t want me alive just so he could torture me. In that case, I’d fight, trying to force them to kill me.

  Would Kasey be there with Ilya? If so, would she be my doom or my salvation? At the moment, I believed she’d betrayed me, giving up my location to Krov. Who else knew I was at that motel?

  Freddy was the only other person who knew and I couldn’t believe he’d betrayed me. He’d nothing to gain from outing me to the Russians. Unless the Russians had grabbed him before I had a chance to warn Freddy. Then, maybe they’d threatened and tortured him to reveal my hiding place.

  That was a possibility with Kasey too. Ilya could have forced her to reveal that information. I just didn’t think that happened.

  I wanted to have faith in Kasey. Maybe I needed to have faith. The alternative was too fucking depressing.

  Chapter Six

  Tuesday

  Krov pulled into the small, rear parking lot of a Russian grocery store. The building had two rear doors, one which clearly led into the store and the other was a steel door without any markings. Krov used two keys to open the locks on that door and led me through some dimly lit hallways, past closed metal doors, and down a set of steep stairs into a basement.

  The basement was a stark room of concrete and shadows, with the smell of astringent chemicals, including bleach. I was roughly placed onto a sturdy metal chair, which was riveted to the concrete floor, and Krov handcuffed my wrists behind me. I was uneasy to see a drain, stained brown, situated just in front of the chair.

  Krov then walked over to a nearby wooden table covered in tools, including knives, bolt cutters, pliers and others intimidating items. Maybe I should’ve tried to fight Krov and force him to kill me. It would’ve been quick and painless. I was hoping though that it was just meant to terrify me. It certainly made me more nervous.