Page 42 of The Perfect Crime

Then, the door behind the guard opened.Out stepped two men.One, in his thirties, was of modest build, with neatly trimmed brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses.He was wearing a gray designer suit.

The man beside him, likely in his sixties, looked like a long-time roadie for a rock band.He was wearing faded black jeans and a tie-dyed t-shirt under a long-sleeved, unbuttoned denim jacket.He was mostly bald, with the little bit of gray hair on his head matching the color of his long, straggly beard.It took her a moment to realize that guy wasn’t a roadie for a rock band but an actual member of one.Though she wasn’t a fan, she recognized him as the lead singer of the popular 90s jam band, The Cherry Pits.She couldn’t remember his name, but she knew he was pretty famous to older people.

“We’ll have the item ready for you by Friday,” the suited man, who also had what she thought was a vaguely eastern European accent said.“Someone will text you with the pickup time.”

“Cool, cool,” the singer said as he pulled a baseball cap out of his back pocket and put it on his head.“I’ll wait to hear from you.But it has to be by Friday.We head out on the next leg of the tour Saturday morning.”

“No need to worry,” the suited man said crisply.“That’s why you come to us.No muss, no fuss.”

As the singer shambled down the hallway Hannah had just come from, she wondered exactly what item he needed and why it had to be ready by Friday.Exactly what kind of place was this?She didn’t have long to ponder the question.

“Number three,” the huge guy said.

Stiller stood up and walked over, handing the security guard his slip of paper.The man glanced at it and nodded to his much smaller boss.

“Mr.S?”the smaller, suited man asked by way of confirmation.

“Yes,” Stiller confirmed.

The small, suited man glanced over at Hannah, and through his thin glasses frames, eyed her with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.But he said nothing to her, instead returning his attention to the fidgety man in front of him.

“Shall we go inside?”he asked Stiller, nodding at the adjacent room.

Before the man could answer, there was static-y squawking sound.Jessie noticed the security guard touch his ear.She realized something she’d missed earlier—he had a small earpiece.

“Everything okay?”the suited man asked the guard.

“Viktor wants me to come to the booth for a moment,” the guard said.“He says there’s a street cop walking the alley and he wants to know if it’s one of ours or if he should be worried.”

The suited man looked at Hannah again.

“She’s gone through the full body security check?”he confirmed.

“Yes, boss,” the guard said.

“Then go check.Make it quick.Mr.S and I will visit inside, and our lady friend will wait her turn.Won’t you, lady friend?”

Hannah nodded compliantly.The suited man led Stiller into the inner room.She heard a loud click as the door closed.Hearing it, the guard headed down the hall.The second that he was out of sight, she stood up and tiptoed over to the inner office door.Somewhere deep in her gut, she felt the slightest stirrings of what she assumed were nerves, but they weren't enough to deter her.She pressed her ear to the door.

“What are we looking for today?”she heard the suited man ask politely.

Hannah leaned in even closer, if that was possible.

“Um,” Stiller said, his voice hoarse with nerves, “earrings, diamond ones.”

“And I assume that by your presence here, you’re not picky about the origin of the stones?”

“Not if it means they save me thirty-five percent off the prices in the jewelry district,” Stiller said.

Now Hannah got it.This was an underground jewelry outfit that seemed to traffic in blood diamonds, which apparently didn't trouble the moral conscience of Rex Stiller.But that wasn't her concern at the moment.The issue now was: what was his plan for these earrings?To re-sell at a marked-up rate?Or were they for someone?

“It could be as much as forty percent off, depending on the stones you prefer,” the man said.“We’ll take a look at some options in a minute.But first, what universe are we talking about here?Are these for the wife?Or perhaps the sidepiece?They tend to have different tastes.”

This guy was doing Hannah’s work for her.She considered trying to record the conversation, but worried that if the guard came around the corner and saw her there with her phone, he might just shoot her then and there.

“There is no sidepiece,” Stiller said firmly.“They’re for my wife.She’s had a rough few months.We’ve had some trouble with our son that has been a source of stress.Add to that, I recently had a cancer scare.Since then I’ve been eating healthier and go to the gym after work—anything to make her less worried about me.But it doesn’t help.So I thought I’d try a more traditional way to brighten her spirits.”

“A lovely gesture,” the man said, “and one I’m sure will be effective.I have yet to meet a woman who didn’t like diamond jewelry.Shall we look at some options?”

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