Flawless Read Free Page A

the stone out of the scale and examined it closely.
    “What the fuck…” he mumbled, his broad giant’s brow furrowing into a frown. “You theenk I’m fucking blind? Perfect my ass. This is an SI one. Maybe even a two. Is worth half the price you asking.”
    “Bollocks,” said Danny, doing his best to look affronted. There was nothing for it now but to bluff it out and pretend that he hadn’t noticed the small inclusion, or internal scratch, himself. If Vlad believed he was being deliberately cheated—if he was sure of it—things had the potential to turn very nasty indeed. “There’s nothing wrong with that stone. Let me have a look.”
    Vlad passed him the loupe, and Danny made a great show of looking very closely, as if unsure that what he was seeing was a blemish at all.
    “Are you talking about the feather, top right? Come on. I can barely even make it out.”
    “Barely?” The Russian looked at him witheringly. “You said ‘perfect.’” Carefully rewrapping each of the stones in diamond paper, he handed them back to Danny. Then, very ominously, he clapped his hands. Seconds later, two even burlier figures emerged from the shadows behind him.
    “All right, mate, calm down,” said Danny, swallowing nervously, his eyes swiveling around the room, scoping out the nearest means of escape. He’d been in many a sticky situation duringhis years in the business and knew how to handle himself in a fight, but these odds weren’t good, and he knew it. “How long’ve we been doing business together, eh Vlad? It was an honest mistake.”
    He could see the Russian thinking about it for a moment. Clearly, everybody in the room knew what had really happened. Honest mistakes from diamond dealers were rarer than a flawless four-carat rock, and Vlad was nobody’s fool. But if he was two parts thug, he was three parts opportunist. Suddenly the power dynamics of the transaction had shifted in his favor. He might as well make use of that.
    “Thirty grand, all five,” he barked.
    Danny started to protest. “Are you smoking fucking dope? The other stones
are
perfect, and that feather’s a VS one at most.”
    “
Very small
,” Vlad laughed mirthlessly. “You calling that inclusion
very slight
? I see Manhattan apartments smaller than that feather. You treeck me, you a-hole.”
    “They’re worth three times what you’re offering, and you know it,” said Danny truthfully.
    “Thirty thousand,” repeated Vlad. “Or twenty-five and I break your fucking fingers.”
    The heavies behind him cracked their enormous knuckles with relish. What the hell did Russian mothers feed their kids, wondered Danny. Miracle-Gro?
    “All right, you bastard,” he said bitterly. “Deal. But that’s the last trade we ever do, my friend.”
    “You damn right it is,” wheezed Vlad, pulling out wads of filthy banknotes from a drawer in his desk. “I see you in my store one more time, Danny Meyer, I fucking kill you.”

     
    Danny’s first stop was the nearest Bank of America.
    After fifteen years in the business, he was used to carrying hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of stones hidden about his person, in chewing gum, fountain pens, even sewn into the fly flap of his trousers, but he’d never gotten comfortable wandering around with cash, especially not in New York. It was almost closing time, and the branch was full of commuters running end-of-the-day errands. Everyone seemed happy, glad to be out of their offices or off the bitterly cold streets. A few people ahead of him in the line were even exchanging pleasantries with one another, a rare sight indeed in this city. Just as he reached the cashier’s window, the witching hour of six p.m. struck, and the girl at the counter firmly waved a “position closed” sign in his face. It was turning out to be that kind of a day.
    “Come on, darling, give a guy a break,” he pleaded, shooting his hand under the clear plastic so she couldn’t fully close the shutter