The Devil’s Share Read Free

story of how I acquired them were to come out, it would cast a certain ambitious government official over there in a very bad light. No doubt, he’d lose the lofty status he’s since obtained. This way, it’s much quieter. They get their items back and I take the loss—quietly.”
    â€œI still don’t understand why I’m here.”
    â€œWell, the final joke fate played on me in this matter? To fully prove me fortune’s fool? During the middle of all these egregious—and expensive—negotiations, the unforeseen happened.”
    â€œYou got a buyer.”
    He nodded, leaned on the cane. “Someone I’d dealt with before. Someone I had in mind when I first acquired these objects, but who, at the time, wouldn’t go near them, because of the controversy attached.”
    â€œAnd now he thinks you’re a motivated seller, so you’ll take his price, which is less than you wanted.”
    â€œYou see it exactly. As you can imagine, it presents a dilemma.”
    â€œBecause now you have to give them back, and you can’t make the deal.”
    â€œI’ve arranged for their transportation, at my own expense, from my warehouse outside Las Vegas to a port in Southern California. That’s where they’ll be handed over to begin the first leg of their journey back to their supposed homeland.”
    â€œAnd you’d rather they not get there,” she said. “Because you’d rather sell them than give them back.”
    He folded the handkerchief, put it away. “Until that handover, until they’re unloaded from my truck at that port, they’re still under my control. You’re familiar with the term, I’m sure, that some crimes—some robberies, most particularly—are called ‘give-ups’?”
    She nodded, knowing where this was going, what he wanted, why she was here.
    â€œI would very much like,” he said, “during that long, perilous journey across the desert, for someone to rob me.”

 
    TWO
    In the Jaguar, headed back down the winding streets, she said, “Not very inconspicuous, is it?”
    â€œWhat?” Hicks said. “The car? Out here, trust me, nobody notices.”
    â€œWhat else do you do for him when you’re not driving?”
    â€œA little of everything. But if you’re thinking it’s one of those sugar-daddy situations, well, I wish. I have to work for a living. I keep a room there I use sometimes, but that’s it.”
    â€œYou have a title?”
    â€œI guess you could call me his head of security.”
    â€œHe needs one?”
    â€œDoesn’t everybody?”
    The road grew steep, and he downshifted, took the next turn easily. The road was lined with trees, high fences.
    She nodded at the tattoo on his forearm. “Nice work. Where’d you get it?”
    â€œThanks. This one”—he turned his arm out, the muscles flexing beneath the skin—“was right here in the States. Down in San Pedro, out on the pier. I like yours, too.”
    He gestured to her left hand, the Chinese character etched on the inside of her wrist, a faint white burn scar across it.
    â€œIt’s Chinese,” she said. “It means—”
    â€œPerseverance. I know. It suits you.”
    â€œYou don’t even know me.”
    â€œJust a guess. Where’d you get it?”
    â€œTexas.”
    â€œI bet there’s a story goes with it.”
    â€œThere is,” she said.
    When she didn’t go on, he smiled, shook his head. She looked out through the windshield, headlights cutting through the darkness.
    â€œSo just what is it you’re in charge of securing?” she said.
    â€œYou’d be surprised. The house, of course, especially when he has events, exhibitions of his collection, whatever. I do the same at his other places, as needed. Occasionally I have to fly out, handle a situation at one of the warehouses or