Fool's Eye

by Gregg Burton

  “Mr. Newman, my name is Mohamed Khan. I manage this branch. When Jessica told me one of our most valued customers was closing his account, I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to change your mind. Do you have a couple of minutes?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  “Well, would you please tell me why you decided to leave Union Square Bank?”

  “I just closed on a beautiful apartment on the upper west side, and I promised the bank I did my mortgage with that I would bring all of my assets to their bank. Sorry, but it just makes sense. Besides, they have a better return on everything from CD’s to my mortgage.”

  Mr. Khan asked, “Do you mind telling me their rates?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Khan, but I really must be going. I’m afraid you have to do your own research.”

  “Yes, of course. Anyway, I signed off on all the important documents to close your account, and Jessica has what you need to sign. Sorry to see you go. Please check back with us to see if our rates get better in the future.”

  I don’t know if Simon stood to shake Mr. Khan’s hand or if Mr. Khan bent down to Simon’s ear, but in the same ear that Simon’s earpiece was in, I heard Mr. Khan whisper, “Now that you got your money, make sure you give us our cut.”

  His voice faded again when he told Jessica, “Make sure he signs all the documents before he leaves.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When the door closed, Simon asked Jessica, “So he’s in on it, too?”

  “There was no way I could have pulled this off without him. It takes two signatures for each document–mine and an officer of the bank–and what better officer than the manager. Plus, we’ve done this together many times before. So, just sign here, here, and here.”

  After he placed his signature in all the spaces she indicated, Jessica said, “Okay, it all looks good. Here’s the money. Do you need to count it?”

  “No need. I trust you.”

  “Okay, Mr. Newman, if there’s nothing else I can do for you, you have a nice day.”

  Chapter 22

  At four o’clock, I was in place; two doors down from Jessica’s job, window-shopping with one hundred thousand dollars in my purse. It was the payout for Jessica and her manager. But to be honest, it was starting to burn a hole so deep in my pocket that I just wanted to run in the store and spend it all. It had my mind racing. I stood there and watched women comb through racks of designer clothes that normally I couldn’t afford, but with this money, I could. I had to remain patient, though. After tonight, I would be able to buy what I wanted. The money I held in my purse was nothing compared to what I would have the next day. That’s if everything went right.

  Simon was so deep in the con that he was past the point of thinking it was some kind of setup. Everything was going like Ace said it would. Well, everything except for Malik getting hurt. I still wondered if he really has a sister, and if so, why didn’t he tell me about her?

  “Linda,” Simon barked through my earpiece. “She’s coming out now.”

  I looked over at the bank. “Okay, I got her,” I said, easing the envelope of money out of my purse and sliding it to my side.

  When Jessica passed me, I cried out, “Excuse me, did you drop this?”

  I bent down and pretended to pick the envelope up from the ground. Jessica was right on cue.

  “Thank you. I didn’t realize I dropped that.”

  She took the envelope from me, and in the same motion, she handed me a piece of paper.

  “It’s no problem, by the way, cute shirt.” I responded as I cuffed the paper in my palm.

  We then walked away from each other like we had never met.

  When I got to the crosswalk, I told Simon, “I got the information.”

  “I saw that. You two looked like Halle Berry and Jennifer Lopez in a spy movie the way y’all pulled that switch.”

  I opened the paper while walking across the crosswalk. “Simon, the letter says we need to be at the reserve by six. Hail us a cab. With this afternoon traffic, it’s going to take some time to get over there.”

  “Okay, meet me on the other end of the park. I will have one waiting for us.”

  I was right about the traffic. It took nearly an hour for us to cover thirty-five blocks.

  I used this opportunity to ask Simon, “What am I getting out of this deal? I mean, Mike is getting out of his contract; Martin will get his debt paid and his sister back. What’s in it for me? At this point, I’ve invested just as much as you. Well, maybe not in money, but in time and resources.”

  “I was wondering when you were going to ask me that. How much do you want for your part in all of this?”

  “I don’t know, but it should be more than everybody else’s.”

  “You’re right. If it weren’t for you, none of this would have happened. Linda, I promise I will take care of you. I just haven’t thought about how much yet. Let’s just get past tonight and tomorrow. Then, I will square you away.”

  “Okay,” I said, and then looked up at the cab driver to see if he was paying attention to us. It seemed that he wasn’t, but I lowered my voice anyway. “Simon, do you think it will be safe for us to ride around with all that money? What if Jessica or that bank manager sells us out for a bigger payday? Aren’t you worried?”

  He thought for a second before shrugging and saying, “We can’t think about that right now. That’s just a chance we’re going to have to take.”

  Once we got to the Union Square Reserve, Simon asked me to stay in the cab and wait for him. I had no problem with that; because the fewer places I was seen with Simon, the better. When he got out of the car, I stared at my phone, fighting myself not to call Malik again. The last time we spoke, he sounded better and upbeat. Wanting to hear his voice again, I gave in to my feeling, pressed talk on my phone, and dialed his number.

  When he answered, I asked him, “How do you feel?”

  The voice on the other end of the phone wasn’t Malik’s. “Roll your window down,” the voice commanded.

  I took the phone away from my ear and looked at the number I had dialed. It was Malik’s.

  “Excuse me, who is this?”

  “Look over your shoulder and roll down your window.”

  At first, I just rolled my eyes over. I tried to get a glance with my peripheral vision, but nothing was in sight. I cracked my neck to look out the left window, and what I saw made me jump over to the next seat.

  A young Asian man opened my door and took a seat.

  The cab driver yelled at him, “I already have a fare. Find another cab!”

  “Calm down, old man. I don’t want to go anywhere. I just saw my friend sitting here and wanted to talk to her for a second.”

  I guess that happened all the time, because the cabbie just went back to minding his own business.

  “Why do you have Malik’s phone?” That was the first thing I could manage.

  “Because, we have Malik.”

  The hairs on my forearms rose when he said that.

  He smiled and reached his hand in his inner jacket pocket. I took a deep breath, not knowing what he was going to pull out of it. I didn’t see my life flashing before my eyes, so I didn’t think I was going to die. This Asian thug hurting me did come to mind. I was ready for him to pull out a knife or some other silent weapon to hurt me. Instead, he pulled out an iPod.

  “If you don’t believe me, take a look at this video.”

  He gave me the iPod, and I watched in sheer terror. Malik was handcuffed and tied to a pole with only his boxers on. Next to him was a lady with short hair and light chocolate dipped skin, who had black stains of watered-down mascara on her cheeks. She was dressed in nothing but a bra and panties. A man standing near Malik slapped him a couple of times and forced him to look at the camera. I saw the terror in his eyes. I wanted him to be safe. I wanted him with me.

  While I was watching it, the Asian told me that I had twelve hours to come up with the money or else they both were dea
d. He snapped his fingers to get my attention.

  “Linda, I need you to understand how important this is. You do understand, don’t you?”

  Crying, I looked at him and replied, “I understand.”

  “Good. We’ll be watching. And you can keep this to show your boyfriend when he gets back. Here…” He reached in his pocket to hand me a napkin. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be crying.” Then he exited the car and left me holding an iPod and a balled-up napkin in my hand.

  A few seconds later, a tap came from the window I was sitting near, causing me to jump again.

  “Move over.”

  It was Simon with a smile wider than the Grand Canyon. He had two briefcases in his hand, and I could tell he felt on top of the world. I moved over to let him in.

  “I got it!” he said.

  “Yeah, and they have Martin!”

  “What are you talking about? Who has Martin? We just spoke to him a couple hours ago.”

  “Look...” I gave him the iPod, and he just stared at it in disbelief.

  “Who gave this to you?”

  “A member from the gang that jumped him last night. He just left the car.”

  Simon jumped out the cab and quickly surveyed the area. When he didn’t see anybody out of the ordinary, he got back in the cab and asked, “What did he say?”

  “He said we have twelve hours to come up with the money or Martin is dead.” I started crying again. “Simon, what are we going to do?”

  Simon looked down at his two briefcases and said, “We’re going to take some of this money and get Martin out of his jam. Then we’re going to break Leblac. But, how do we get a hold of them?”

  “They have Martin’s phone. When you went inside, I called to check on him. The one who gave me this video answered it.”

  The cab driver interrupted our conversation. “Where to next? The meter is still running.”

  “Here…” Simon reached in his pocket and handed the cab driver two hundred dollars. “Now just give us a minute.”

  The cab driver took the money and said, “Take your time.”

  “Linda, hand me your phone. I’ll fix this right now.”

  Simon took the phone and pressed talk. When the kidnappers answered, Simon told them, “You have a friend of mine and his sister. Where can we meet so I can give you the money he owes you and you can release them?” He nodded his head as he listened to them. “Okay, I know the place. What time? Okay, I’ll be there, and you better not lay another hand on him until then.”

  “What did they say?” I asked when Simon handed the phone back to me.

  “We’ll meet at midnight in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge. They promise not to lay another hand on him until then.”

  “Midnight! Why not now?”

  “I don’t know. That’s just what he told me.”

  “Okay, so what now?”

  “Now we call Mike ‘The Sledgehammer’ and let him know the fix is on for tonight’s fight. He better not fuck up! I have everything riding on this.” He looked over at me and smiled. “Linda, let’s get you cleaned up. People are going to think it’s my fault you’re crying like this.”

  “I look a mess, huh?”

  I reached in my purse to get my compact mirror and some tissue, but my tissue pack was empty. Then I remembered that thug gave me a tissue. When I fanned it open, something flew in Simon’s lap.

  “What the hell is that?” he yelled as he frantically brushed the object off of him.

  I looked on the seat. “Oh my God, it’s a finger!”

  Chapter 23

  Simon fumbled with both briefcases and the door handle while trying to get out of the car. I fought with my door handle as I screamed bloody murder trying to get away from that detached finger. The driver covered his ears and demanded to know what was happening in his cab. When he turned back and looked in the seat, he screamed, “Holy mother of God!” and began his own fight with his door handle.

  I cried out to Simon, “They chopped off his finger!”

  Simon was breathing hysterically. “We don’t know that. It might be a fake.”

  The cab driver, who was now standing next to me, said, “Get that thing out of my car!”

  I yelled back, “I’m not touching that! You get it out!”

  “No,” said the cab driver. “I’m going to call the police. You kids are going to jail.”

  He pats his pockets, but then realized he left his phone in the car. I looked at Simon and mouthed, “What do we do?” Honestly, I didn’t know what to do. I felt his mind racing as the cab driver opened his door to get his phone.

  “Run!” he yelled.

  While the cab driver was bent over, I kicked him in the butt to give myself a good head start. Then, I ran into the middle of the street before finally cutting behind one of cars and catching up with Simon on the sidewalk. Simon grabbed my hand once I reached him and made me run faster. I could vaguely hear the cab driver yelling behind us, but his voice was fading. That meant he wasn’t following us.

  Once we turned the corner, Simon told me, “Stop running. We look suspicious.”

  I gladly stopped. My chest was on fire, and I could hardly breathe.

  “Simon, we need to call Martin again. We need to make sure he’s still alive. What if they killed him already and are just trying to lure us there to kill us, too?”

  “I was just thinking the same thing. Let me see your phone again.”

  I held my breath as he pressed “talk” on my phone.

  “Let me speak to my friend. You sorry son-of-a-bitch! What do mean when I pay you?”

  I whispered, “Simon, put it on speakerphone or let me talk to them.”

  He elected speakerphone.

  “Look,” Simon continued, “you’re not going to get one red cent from me if you don’t put him on the phone.”

  A familiar voice came on the other end, “Will you be satisfied if you hear his voice?”

  “Yes!” I said without thinking.

  “Oh, Miss Linda, is that you I hear?”

  “Yes, it is. Just let us speak to him. We just want to make sure he’s alive.”

  “One moment, please.”

  We could hear him talking to somebody in another language in the background. We heard some things move around and then some scuffling. When he got back to the phone, he politely apologized for keeping us waiting.

  “Linda and Simon, am I right? Your name is Simon, correct?”

  Simon didn’t respond.

  “Well, at any rate, you wanted to hear from your friend. So, here you go.”

  He said something else in his language, and then I heard hysterical, pleading moans. I couldn’t make out the words too well, but it sounded like, stifled no’s…. Next, I heard what sounded like a knife crashing down on a cutting board, but the muffled scream that came afterward let me know something was between the board and knife. My first thought was that they had cut off another one of Malik’s fingers.

  I bellowed into the phone, “YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!”

  People who were walking by us stopped briefly to see what the commotion was all about. They kept moving once they figured out it was nothing more than another person yelling at their phone. Something like that wasn’t uncommon in New York City.

  The man on the other end said, “I hope you’re happy now. See you at midnight. Hopefully, he will still have some fingers left.”

  The phone went dead. Simon and I were left looking at it, speechless.

  “Simon, we need to help him. Why do we have to wait until midnight? What if he bleeds to death?”

  “Linda, we have to keep it together. We have to play by their rules. All we can do now is pray that he will be fine until then. We also really need to get to the fight before it starts, or all of this would have been for nothing. What time is it anyway?”

  I looked at my Minnie Mouse watch. “It’s 6:30. The fight starts in less than an hour and a half. We need to get to the meat packing district.”


  “It’s not there. It’s in Brooklyn.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, the guy told me last night that this fight is in Brooklyn. He said it’s a place where they used to have a lot of factories, but most of them have been turned into apartments and condos.”

  “The Bushwick area or Little Manhattan they’re starting to call it. I know the area. Did he give you an address?”