by Nic Saint
“It’s an expression, Dooley,” I explained. “It means it’s time to keep quiet.”
This time it was Dooley’s turn to glance around as if expecting a contingent of scary men in trench coats and masks to get ready to bodily drag us into an unmarked van.
“It’s just that this is a very delicate operation, Dooley,” I explained. “We’re moving the Pink Lady to a safe place, and so it’s very important not to draw any unwanted attention to ourselves. You never know who might be watching.”
And in fact now that I thought of it, this wasn’t such a far-fetched idea either. If the people who had stolen that stone thirty years ago, and had now lost it on the beach, had gotten wind that the stone was to be found at Gems World, they might have posted a lookout in front of the jeweler while thinking up ways and means of getting their hands on that precious diamond once more.
Odelia stepped into the store, after glancing left and right for good measure, and we followed in her wake.
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Poole,” said Mr. Linoski, looking pleased as punch to see us again—or at least the human element in our small band of three. “I’ve got the stone ready for you.” He proceeded to slide an envelope across the counter, making certain not to glance down at it, and in doing so acting very conspicuously indeed.
“Why is he acting so weird, Max?” asked Dooley. “They’re all acting so weird, him and Odelia both.”
“You never know who’s watching, Dooley,” I said. “And right now maybe the bad people are watching the store. For all we know they could even have set up shop in an apartment across the street, watching us through their binoculars, to find out what’s going on.”
Cleverly enough Odelia kept herself in front of the counter, and effectively obscured that envelope from view of whoever might be watching in my hypothetical scenario. In fact she was making as little movement as possible while she surreptitiously slipped the envelope into her purse and, like the jeweler, didn’t even bother to look down.
Very smooth!
“What can you tell me about the two cops that were in here?” she asked now.
“Here, I have them on video,” said the jeweler helpfully. He looked very much relieved, and I didn’t wonder. If I was keeping a diamond worth millions in my store, I’d be relieved too if someone took it off my hands.
The jeweler now showed Odelia his phone, and she frowned as she watched the footage. “Well, I’ll be damned,” she muttered.
“Do you recognize them?” asked Mr. Linoski curiously.
Odelia nodded thoughtfully.
“So are they police officers? Should I have handed them the diamond? Only I didn’t feel safe doing that, you see. Especially after your uncle told me that he didn’t have anyone to spare who could guard my store. And then suddenly these two officers showed up—”
“It’s all right,” said Odelia, giving the man a reassuring smile. “I know who they are. And you absolutely did the right thing, Mr. Linoski.”
“Oh, that’s a great relief. You see, I felt bad not complying with a direct order from the strong arm of the law, and I was actually on the verge of handing over the diamond. I’ve always prided myself in being a law-abiding citizen, and so when they asked me to hand over the stone I immediately assumed—”
“It’s fine,” said Odelia, stemming the flow of words. “I think I better be going now, and make sure this little gem is tucked away safely where no one will find it.” She patted her purse, and it was clear that she wanted to get out of there as soon as possible and get this most dangerous assignment over with posthaste.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Poole,” said the jeweler, and clasped his hands together gratefully. “Your uncle told me this was your idea, and I want you to know that I can’t thank you enough.”
“That’s all right. You did your part, Mr. Linoski, and for that I’m sure the owners of the Pink Lady will be most grateful.”
The jeweler licked his lips. “Will there be a finder’s fee, you think? I know I didn’t technically find the stone, but I was instrumental in its safekeeping, so I just wondered…”
“As soon as we can track down the owners, I’ll be sure to tell them what an important part you played,” Odelia assured the man. She was slowly backtracking to the door, eager to get on her way.
We followed suit, and soon we were out on the sidewalk again, and lo and behold: a car had driven up, and we recognized the person behind the wheel as Odelia’s husband Chase.
“Get in,” he said, and we all did. “And now let’s get the hell out of here,” he grunted, and was soon peeling away from the curb and making good time for the good ol’ homestead.
8
If Odelia and Chase had stuck around for just a little while longer, they would have discovered that all of their precautions hadn’t been in vain. For the moment they were out of sight, two men appeared in the window above the bakery across the street from Thormond Linoski’s gem emporium. One of the men was heavyset and suffered the misfortune of having to go through life without the benefit of a neck, while his partner in crime was a small, scrawny type with the face of a ferret.
“Dammit,” said the ferrety one, whose name was Jerry Vale, and had been in and out of jail so many times the episodes had blurred in his mind. “I knew we should have grabbed that thing when we had the chance.”
“But how, Jer?” asked the no-neck one, who answered to the name Johnny Carew. “How could we grab the thing?”
“Simple. You could have knocked that guy’s block off, and then we could have grabbed the stone.”
“But you said he probably kept it in the vault.”
“Then you could have told him to take it out of the vault, or else.”
“Or else what, Jer? You said no violence. And besides, we’re on the straight and narrow now, and people on the straight and narrow don’t go and knock other people’s blocks off.”
“Mh,” said Jer, who looked as if he hadn’t exactly figured this one out himself yet.
“Besides, now we know that Odelia has it, things are a lot simpler.”
“Simpler?” Jerry whipped his head around to look at his associate so fast it cricked—he did have a neck, and right now it hurt from having sat there in their small apartment, keeping an eye on the comings and goings across the street. “Simpler? It’s just become a lot more complicated!”
“But don’t you see, Jer?” said his friend, holding up two hands the size of coal shovels. “Now we can simply walk up to Odelia and tell her nicely to hand over the stone. Easy peasy!”
“Nothing doing,” Jerry grunted irritably. He rubbed his painful neck. It was bad enough that they’d lost the damn stone, but they were forced to stay in an apartment the size of a broom closet, and sleep on a mattress that was so worn out his back was killing him. “I know Odelia Poole, Johnny. The moment she got hold of that rock she’s never letting go again. No, we can kiss that precious Pink Lady goodbye. It’s gone. And you and me missed the chance of a lifetime.”
“Don’t be so glum, Jer,” said his friend, placing one of those coal shovels on Jerry’s shoulder and squeezing. “You know what we should do? We should talk to Marge. Marge likes us. In fact she likes us so much there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for us.”
“Says you.”
“No, but it’s true. Remember how nice she was when she offered us that job at the library?”
“Mh.”
“I say we go over there right now and have a nice chat with her. We’ll simply explain the situation and I’m sure she’ll do the right thing.”
“Mh.”
If Jerry didn’t sound convinced, it was because he had a much more dour outlook on life than Johnny, who was one of those rare people who always saw the good in others, unlike Jerry, who always saw the worst.
“My neck hurts,” he lamented, “and so does my back. I’m going to the pharmacy.” He then wagged a finger in his friend’s face. “You stay here, you hear me? You’ve messed up once, I don’t need you to mess up
again.”
“Sure, Jer,” said Johnny as he allowed his large body to drop down on the crooked and aged old couch and flicked on the small TV set in the corner of the room. “Whatever you say.”
In spite of the fact that he’d promised his friend to stay put, Johnny soon felt a compelling need to break that promise and head out of the apartment he shared with his partner in crime—or uncrime, ever since they’d reformed. A large body like the one he carried through life needs to be fed at regular intervals, and this was what posed the problem. He’d been watching the adventures of the men and women on Passion Island, one of those reality shows that seemed to be all the rage, when he felt his stomach loudly protest. So he went in search of food. Only when he opened the cupboard, there was very little that would satisfy a big guy like him: apart from a stack of sardine cans and an empty bag of Wonder Bread, only empty space was to be found. The fridge was even worse: apart from the remnants of last night’s pizza, which he ate, and two cold beers, which he drank, the thing was empty.
So Johnny decided there was only one thing to do: he needed to do some shopping. Jerry could thank him later. And he’d only just stepped out of the apartment when he came upon a handsome-looking man with a very snazzy coiffure, who pressed a flyer into his hands and said, “Read this, my friend. It will open your eyes.” Since his eyes were already open, Johnny didn’t know how to respond to this. The other man jumped into the breach by adding, “We’ve all been lied to, my friend. And it’s time that we learned the truth.”
“The truth?” asked Johnny. His mama had always taught him to speak the truth, so this proposition appealed to him greatly.
“Just read the information on the flyer,” the man suggested. “It’s all there. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
These words were imminently familiar to Johnny, as he’d heard them being used in the many, many trials he’d participated in over the course of a long and industrious criminal career. The man reminded him of something, and for a moment he couldn’t put his finger on it. But then finally he got it. “Are you a brother, brother?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. His weeks spent as a Jehovah’s Witness were still fresh in his mind. It had been a period in his life fraught with frustration, but also with a keen sense of kinship with the other men and women who had gone door to door to spread the word of the Lord to the world, only to have the door thrown in their faces almost each and every time.
“Yes, I am, brother,” said the man, placing a brotherly hand on Johnny’s broad shoulder.
“I lost faith, brother,” Johnny confessed. “I knocked on so many doors, and no one would answer. So I finally stopped knocking.” Also there was the fact that he and Jerry had been arrested while out proselytizing. It hadn’t gone down well with their congregation, unfortunately. He didn’t think he should mention that minor detail to this man, in whom he now recognized a kindred spirit.
“Come to the meeting tonight, brother,” said the man, as he held out a hand.
Johnny shook it warmly. Somehow he felt this was fate. When at his lowest ebb, along came this savior, and he, for one, was adamant to grab onto this life raft with both hands.
“What’s your name, brother?” he asked finally.
“Fido Siniawski,” said the other man.
“I’m Johnny,” said Johnny. “Is it all right if I bring a friend?”
“Brother,” said Fido, “you can bring all the friends you want. The more the merrier.”
And so it was with a spring in his step that Johnny Carew headed to the General Store. A spring in his step and a small stack of flyers in his pocket, to hand out to anyone who would listen. Now all he needed was his trusty bible and a crisp white shirt and nice tie and he was back in business, baby!
9
We’d finally arrived home, the precious stone still safe in Odelia’s purse and no carjackers or purse-snatchers or other scum of the earth having waylaid us or even having showed their ugly faces, and frankly I heaved a sigh of relief.
“Now I think I know what those money transporters must feel like,” said Dooley, who had experienced the same unabated tension from the moment that diamond had been placed in our possession to the moment we finally arrived home. “It’s very stressful, don’t you think, Max?”
“Extremely stressful,” I agreed.
“I saw a documentary on the Discovery Channel once and they said money transporters suffer more from stomach ulcers than the average person. I hope Odelia won’t turn this into a regular thing.” He grabbed his stomach. “I think I can feel an ulcer developing already, Max. Can’t you?”
“I think I’m fine for now, Dooley,” I said with a smile. “No ulcers anywhere in sight, I’m happy to say.”
“I’m not so sure, Max,” he said, giving me a dubious look. “It takes years for an ulcer to develop, so one could already be there, only you don’t know it until it’s too late. Same with cancer.”
“I’m sure we’re both fine, Dooley,” I said as we entered the house in Odelia and Chase’s wake. “It’s just one little trip through town, not a lifetime of transporting precious cargo in an armored car.”
“Still,” he said as we set paw inside our living room and immediately relaxed. I don’t know about you, but I always feel there’s no place like home, is there?
“So what do you plan to do with it?” asked Chase as Odelia took the envelope the jeweler had handed her and opened it.
“I’d like to put it in Mom and Dad’s safe immediately,” said Odelia as she studied the stone. It didn’t look all that remarkable to me, to be honest. In fact it looked just like a piece of pink glass. Why a tiny little stone like that should be worth millions was absolutely beyond me.
“So is there a picture of a pink lady in that stone, Odelia?” asked Dooley eagerly. “Can I see it?”
Odelia laughed, and when she translated Dooley’s words for her husband, the burly cop emitted a hearty laugh, too. “The diamond might be called the Pink Lady, Dooley,” he explained as he crouched down and gave my friend a tickle under his chin, “but there’s no image of a pink lady inside it.”
“There isn’t?” said Dooley, looking distinctly disappointed. “But why?”
“Because there simply isn’t,” said Odelia as she tucked the diamond away again. “Let’s get this over with, shall we? I’ll feel safer once this stone is behind lock and key.”
Together she and Chase walked out the back door and into the backyard, then disappeared through the opening in the hedge that separates our backyard from Odelia’s parents’ little patch of green heaven. And since our mission now seemed at an end, Dooley and I decided to take a breather and take up our position on the smooth lawn once more, before that fickle sun decided to call it a day and turned off the heat.
And we’d just been lying there for a couple of minutes when a voice intruded upon the peace and quiet.
“What’s all this I’m hearing about a Pink Lady?” asked the voice.
I didn’t even have to open my eyes to know who the voice belonged to: Harriet, our white Persian friend. She was trotting up to us, her tail pointing at the sky like a flagpole, Brutus in her wake.
“The Pink Lady isn’t actually a real lady,” said Dooley helpfully. “And she’s not even an image of a pink lady. She’s just a pink stone, so why they’re calling her a lady I really don’t know.”
“Probably because the diamond is pink and was a gift for a lady,” I said.
“So where is this diamond now?” asked Harriet as she lay herself down next to us.
“It’s in Marge and Tex’s safe,” I said. “The jeweler didn’t feel comfortable having it at the shop, and Uncle Alec didn’t feel comfortable having it at the police station, so Odelia thought it would be a good idea to put it where nobody would think to look, at least until they can get in touch with the owners of the precious gem.”
“Precious, huh?” said Brutus, joining us on the lawn. “How much, you think?”
“I’m not s
ure,” I said. “The jeweler told us it’s priceless, but he also said it’s worth millions, so make of that what you will.”
“Millions,” said the butch black cat, and a strange glimmer came into his eyes, and when I glanced over to Harriet, I saw that the same glimmer was mirrored in her strikingly green eyes as well.
“It used to belong to the Sheikh’s wife,” Dooley explained. “She was the Sheikh’s ninety-ninth wife, but then she died, and then the stone disappeared, and then the Sheik died, though I’m not sure when, but now his son is the new sheikh, and I’m not sure how many wives he’s got, but then the stone turned up on the beach, and then fake cops tried to take the stone, and Odelia recognized the fake cops but she wouldn’t tell us who they were, though she whispered their names to Chase in the car, and I think she said it was Johnny and Jerry. Isn’t that right, Max?”
I nodded. Even though for some reason Odelia hadn’t wanted us to find out that our two criminal friends were up to their old tricks again, of course we’d heard what she said loud and clear.
“So millions, huh?” said Brutus, as if he hadn’t heard Dooley’s entire iteration of the story. “That’s a lot of dough, fellas. Imagine what we could do with millions.”
“Odelia could buy herself and her family a castle,” said Harriet, “and then we could live like kings.” That glimmer was shining more brightly than ever now. “She could really pamper us and we could all live in the lap of luxury if the Pooles had those millions at their disposal.”
“First off, they don’t have millions at their disposal,” I said, deciding the best way to deal with this glimmer, which I recognized as the glimmer of greed, was to nip it in the bud. “And second, there’s nothing millions could buy that we don’t already have. I mean, we have food, and a perfect home, and the best humans, and great friends—what difference are millions going to make?”
Harriet turned an icy glare on me. “God, Max, you’re so pedestrian.”