The Hot Rock Read Free Page B

on a table completely enclosed in glass, all four sides and the top. The glass cube was about six feet square and seven feet high, and at a distance of about five feet out from it a red velvet rope looped from stanchions to make a larger square to keep the gawkers at a safe distance. At each corner of this larger square, just inside the rope, stood a colored guard in a dark blue uniform with a holstered gun on his hip. A small sign on a one–legged stand like a music stand said BALABOMO EMERALD in capital letters and gave the stone’s history, the dates and names and places.

    Dortmunder studied the guards. They looked bored, but not sleepy. He studied the glass, and it had the slightly olive look of glass with a lot of metal in it. Bulletproof, shatterproof, burglarproof. The edges of the glass cube were lined with strips of chromed steel and so was the line where the glass met the floor.

    They were on the second floor of the Coliseum, the ceiling about thirty feet above their heads, a balcony overlooking the floor on three sides. The Pan–African Culture and Art Exhibit was spread throughout all four display floors, with the main attractions here on the second floor. The high ceiling bounced back a general stirring of sound as people shuffled by the exhibits.

    Akinzi, not being a very large or important African nation, it wasn’t out in the very middle of the floor, but the Balabomo Emerald being considered an impressive stone, it wasn’t shoved back against a wall or up onto the fourth floor either. It stood in a fairly exposed position, miles from any exit.

    “I’ve seen enough,” Dortmunder said.

    “Me too,” said Kelp.

    They left the Coliseum and went across Columbus Circle and into Central Park. They took a path that headed for the lake and Dortmunder said, “That would be tough, taking it out of there.”

    “Yeah, it would,” said Kelp.

    “I wonder maybe we should wait till it goes on the road,” Dortmunder said.

    “That won’t be for a while yet,” said Kelp. “Iko won’t like us sitting around doing nothing at a hundred fifty bucks a week per man.”

    “Forget Iko,” Dortmunder said. “If we do this thing, I’m the one in charge. I’ll handle Iko, don’t worry about it.”

    “Sure, Dortmunder,” said Kelp. “Anything you say.”

    They walked on over to the lake and sat on a bench there. It was June and Kelp watched the girls walk by. Dortmunder sat looking at the lake.

    He didn’t know about this caper, he didn’t know whether he liked it or not. He liked the idea of the guaranteed return, and he liked the idea of the small easily transported object of the heist, and he was pretty sure he could keep Iko from causing any trouble, but on the other hand he had to be careful. He’d fallen twice now, it wouldn’t be a good thing to fall again. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life eating prison food.

    So what didn’t he like? Well, for one thing, they were going after an item valued at half a million dollars, and it only stood to reason an item valued at half a million dollars was going to get some pretty heavy guarding. It wasn’t going to be easy to get that rock away from the Akinzi. The tour guards, the bulletproof glass, that was probably only the beginning of the defenses.

    For another thing, if they did manage to get away with the stone, they could count on very heavy police activity. The cops would be likely to spend considerably more time and energy tracking down the people who stole a half million dollar emerald than going after somebody who copped a portable television set. There would also be insurance dicks all over the place, and sometimes they were worse than the cops.

    And finally, how did he know Iko could be trusted? There was something just a little too smooth about that bird.

    He said, “What do you think of Iko?”

    Kelp, surprised, looked away from the girl in the green stockings and said, “He’s okay, I guess. Why?”

    “You think