Part 8 (1/2)
Bushy eyebrows rose. ”Nice gift.”
”She didn't think so. Especially now that someone is looking for the rest of the collection. They tore apart her house and her car, and I'm not sure they'll stop there. They want the other pieces and they think she has them.”
”Maybe she does.”
”No.” He shook his head, keeping his eye contact as strong as his voice, making sure the Russian believed him. ”She doesn't. I'm sure.”
Vasili shrugged. ”Neither do I.”
”I didn't think so. Anyway, if you'd had them, they'd be in Russia by now.” Vasili's connection to the Russian Mafia and their lucrative export business was not the best kept secret in town.
Vasili laughed and reached over to punch Rocky's shoulder. ”You're right!”
”But maybe you heard something about the collection being fenced.”
He shook his head. ”Lot of stuff being p.a.w.ned- recession good for business. But not that. I would know.”
”It wouldn't have been recent.” Mentally, he counted back the months to Janet's brief marriage to Banner. ”Probably early last year.”
Vasili gave it some thought. ”You sure they fence in Detroit? All good stuff here comes to me, but I don't see Pellinni Jewels.”
He should have realized the Russian would take it as a personal affront that he hadn't been chosen to fence the jewelry. ”I'm not sure where they came from, just that it's likely they were bought around here. But I figure they were very hot and got dumped fast. Probably by someone who didn't know what he had, or else my friend's husband wouldn't have been able to afford it.” Or, more likely, the greedy b.a.s.t.a.r.d wouldn't have given it to his wife.
The Russian nodded slowly. ”Maybe.” His gaze sharpened. ”So what you want do? Find fence, threaten poor man's life? How that help your lady friend? How that help me?”
Rocky took a deep breath, praying to pitch this right, or Vasili wouldn't tell him anything. ”If I can find the fence, maybe I can convince him to tell me what happened to the other pieces. I know they're long gone by now, sold to some new owner, and I can keep the fence's name out of it. He should be glad, because I don't think our new thief's the type to leave witnesses. If he finds the fence first, the guy might not live to talk about it.”
Vasili nodded. ”True. Dangerous business.”
Rocky didn't point out that Vasili's a.s.sociates were responsible for a large percentage of that danger. ”If I can convince him to tell me where the rest of the collection went, I can find it. And I'm still the best in the business. If I get the jewelry back, the fence is safe. There's no reason to connect me to him, or the guy who sold it last year. The bad guys stop looking for it, the fence lives, and my lady friend is out of danger.”
”And you bring to me. I use international contacts, sell to highest bidder, split with you eighty-twenty.”
Rocky smiled, only partly at the low percentage being offered him. ”Not exactly. I take them to the FBI. Game over.”
Vasili looked crushed, shaking his big head. ”d.i.c.k-head move. No one make money.”
”But everyone stays safe.”
”Pfft.” He sulked over the loss of income for several seconds. ”You not so good businessman, Rocky. Could make lots money. But . . . your loss. You want name of fence? No skin off my nose. They find him, less compet.i.tion for me.” Vasili rubbed his chin again, thinking. ”Had to be someone not know business too good, or never would have sold necklace, right? Who not recognize Pellinni Jewels?” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling over such incomprehensible ignorance. Then squinted as inspiration struck. ”I know guy like this on West Side. Stupid s.h.i.+t. Don't know name. Not important. Like mosquito, I only swat him if get in my way.” He sketched a map on a piece of paper, marking a spot with an X, then indicating major roads with a blunt forefinger. ”This Evergreen, this Fenkell. Store on side street here. Called ”Treasures,” or ”Fortunes.” Some s.h.i.+t like that.”
Rocky folded the paper and tucked it in a pocket. ”Thanks, Vasili.”
”You tell me what happens.”
”I will.”
”And don't be stranger. Keep in touch.”
Not if he could avoid it. ”I might come by more often if you'd buy another d.a.m.n stool to sit on.”
Vasili laughed and came around the counter, opening the door for Rocky and waving good-bye, his usual routine. Rocky was sure if he walked out alone he'd never make it to the front door of the barber shop without being tackled. The escort was for Rocky's safety.
Leaving was a relief, and not just because he had a lead on the necklace. Stepping back into the world of petty thieves, crime cartels, and armed bodyguards felt like walking in deep muck, the stink clinging to his clothes and dirtying everything he touched. He strode across the street to the abandoned parking lot where he'd left the Lexus, intent on getting out of this crumbling section of Detroit as fast as he could.
The Lexus was no longer alone in the lot. A yellow corvette was parked nearby, a man leaning against it as he waited. Rocky took in the studied indifference as the man watched him, finally flicking his cigarette to the ground and straightening as Rocky reached the lot.
s.h.i.+t. Easy Joey, the last person he ever wanted to see again.
”Thought this was your car.” Easy strolled around it to the driver's side, obviously satisfied with his sharp memory.
”Figured that out, huh?” He pulled the keys from his pocket and jingled them impatiently.
Easy had never tuned in to subtleties. Or maybe he was ignoring this one. ”Heard you were out.”
Rocky lifted an eyebrow. ”I've been out for more than a year. That news is a bit out of date.”
”And yet I never get tired of remembering that you went to jail.”
His jaw tightened. ”I'll bet.” Easy was the one responsible for putting him there.
”How was it? I've never been, myself.”
He'd give anything to wring the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's neck. ”Interesting place. I made lots of new friends.” He allowed a cool smile.
Easy's expression hardened. ”Are you threatening me, Hernandez?”
Rocky allowed a short laugh. ”I'm not that interested in you, Easy. And I'm leaving.” He hit the remote b.u.t.ton to unlock the car, waiting for Easy to stand aside. The idiot stepped toward him instead.
”Well, I'm not done with you.”
Was the twerp really confronting him? He knew Easy was p.r.o.ne to rash moves but was surprised his anger could blind him to the obvious fact that he was a marshmallow.
Easy put on his tough face, squinting and curling his upper lip. The glimpse of nicotine-stained teeth was the only actual intimidating factor. ”You took something from me, Hernandez. I intend to get even.”
”You made sure I went to jail. I'd say we're even.”
”Well, you're wrong. A year in County, big deal. Those gold coins were my big score, and you took them.”
Marshmallow or not, the guy had hit a tender spot. Rocky made a conscious effort to control his temper as he leaned close to Easy. ”Those gold coins weren't yours.”
”I don't agree, and I want them back.”
”Too bad. I don't have them.”
Easy sneered. ”You expect me to believe you'd fence them for a tenth of their value? I'm not stupid.”