“Twenty-five thousand dollars,” he says.
“My heart just broke.”
I stare at him and he stares back. Guy has cool blue eyes and they don’t let on much. I’m not really sure what I look like to him. I’m mad enough to pull my gun and shoot him and I don’t care if it shows.
“Guy, say something better to me. The situation demands it.”
“Laura,” he says, leaning forward confidentially. “These jewels are from the Miracle Auto Body massacre. They are hotly pursued. Everyone knows it. You must.”
“I know they’re worth four hundred and fifty grand at the mall, and forty-five grand to you. Twenty-five? All I can say to twenty-five is the obvious-it’s two in the morning and you are wasting my time.”
“Then in deference to Anthony, and to your valuable time and your skill in acquiring these stones, I offer you twenty-seven thousand, five hundred dollars. I will not pay more.”
I shake my head and look out at the busy port. I think of plenty of things to say, but I don’t.
Guy finally breaks the long silence.
“Laura, you’re new to this. Listen. Let’s say that we do business but you don’t get your price this time. If you sell to me now, I’ll be here for you again. We can build respect. Respect leads to responsibility. We would become responsible for each other. Back and forth. Left and right. Containers going and containers coming. I buy and sell almost everything. You can continue your relationship with Anthony, whatever that might be. I can be an ally and a source for you. There would be times when I hear things that can help you. There would be times when you need something I can supply. I am a man you want to be in business with. I can help your friends. You can put your ear to any door in this city and you’ll never hear an uncertain word about me. Why? Because I make money for everyone around me. If you say no to me now, Laura, you’re closing the door on a secure and profitable future.”
I stare at Guy through this whole proclamation. He’s unflinching. Slowly, he sets a card on the table before me. It’s blank except for a phone number, handwritten in blue ink.
I look down at the diamonds. Even the minor, involuntary movement of my head makes them shine with unpredictable brilliance.
“You can take the diamonds and go. You’re free to do that, of course. If you change your mind, you can leave a message at that number.”
“I can find another buyer.”
“Yes. But really, it doesn’t matter what you do with them now.”
“How can it not matter?”
“Because they don’t belong to you. Do what you want. But the diamonds will come back to me.”
“I fail to see how,” I say.
“No matter what you do, they’ll be revealed. Blood diamonds are always revealed. That’s what makes them blood diamonds, correct? And when they’re found they’ll be brought to me or someone like me. And my offer will be taken because it’s fair.”
“It’s not fair. You didn’t do the work.”
“I’m management and you’re labor.”
I take my time sweeping the diamonds back into their papers. My heart is beating hard and I have this terrible sense of doom and defeat inside me. I hate this man and everything he says because in my heart I know he’s right.
“Fourteen men have died for these diamonds,” I say.
“Yes.”
“Not counting the ones who died in the mines, searching them out.”
“Yes again.”
“How can I take less than what they paid for them?”
“That sounds noble but really it’s just sentimental. The stones are only worth what they are worth.”
“I like them,” I say. “I’ve become attached to them. Maybe I’ll have some set for people I love. Maybe have some set for me. Maybe just enjoy them for what they are rather than selling them. Some things are more precious unsold.”
The look on Guy’s face is authentic disappointment. He exhales softly but keeps his cool blue eyes on mine.
“We all know that Lupercio is going to find you, Ms. Jones.”
Of course Guy saw Lupercio and me on TV. Half of L.A. saw Lupercio and me on TV. I didn’t think someone would use that story to rip me off. Honor among thieves? What a pitiful notion.
“Maybe he’ll pay me a better price,” I say.
“He’s going to kill you and take them. But the diamonds aren’t why he’s going to kill you. You can hand all of those over to him, and a hundred thousand dollars in cash, and give him your beautiful young body, then move to another state, and change your name and your appearance, and he’ll still kill you.”
“Why?”
“Because you saw him. Maybe you described him to the police artist. Or, maybe someone else saw him and described him to a police artist. Maybe. But Lupercio is free now because he doesn’t allow people to see him. I’m not trying to frighten you for yourself or your family. I’m not trying to negotiate with you. I’m not trying for a better price. I can get a better price just by waiting.”
“Can you stop him?”
“He can be influenced.”
“If you get your price.”
“Which is a fair price.”
“In exchange for allowing you to steal my diamonds you influence Lupercio?”
“Correct.”
So, Guy is basically what KFC and Burger King and Taco Bell and all those other businesses were when I was a kid-a low-wage employer with a feeble benefits package and the proud ability to save me from terrors that he himself will bring upon me. They’re all poverty vendors with protection rackets on the side. I swear for just a second that Guy looks like that damned Victor they brought in from the East to take Ruby’s job at KFC.
I’m also pretty sure that Guy’s swank laptop is the one I saw on the coffee table in the Marina del Rey safe house. I’ve never seen one like that-not in a store, not in an ad, not in a movie, never. So I think Guy is not only a cop but one of Hood’s bosses. A thought: in Marina del Rey he was downstairs outfitting my Sentra with a locator for Lupercio to follow, while I was upstairs making a video to lure Lupercio into a trap. A fucking cop, helping Lupercio kill the only witness who can put him near Miracle Auto Body that bloody night. And now trying to steal her diamonds for a song. A bad song.
Cute.
Too bad I can’t tell Hood about it.
It would all be kind of funny, if I didn’t have my life to consider. And the lives of my boys. Ernest, too. Even my students. I teach a mean hour of history to eighth graders for nine months a year, and believe me, they need some tiny sense of the past. They need to know that there was life before cell phones. They need to be relieved of their overstimulated, overscheduled, overamplified, overcom mercialized, overrated, overpandered-to present. But a classroom hour a day isn’t enough to accomplish that, and teaching is not a way for me to get ahead in life. I took this extra job partly for my family, though I’ll admit it was mostly for me. I took it because I was tired of following the orders of corporate drones and compromising with district fools. And I took it because the blood of Joaquin runs through me. It pulls at me like a hand from the grave. I did not become an outlaw to get more laws to live by.
“I’m keeping the diamonds, Guy. Get Anthony back in here. I’m gone.”
“Let me be the first to say good-bye.”
“Say good-bye to yourself. You don’t impress me.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“You don’t have enough balls to impress me. You just rent them from Lupercio.”
He offers me a dull smile.
I stand as Angel and his ward come back through the invisible door. Wise Angel senses disaster.
“May I have a few private words with Guy?” Angel asks.
“Give me the truck keys,” I say.
“Why, Laura? I’ll just be a minute.”
I look at Guy. “I can’t take another minute of this.”