Page 19 of The Furies

“And now your lapse will cause you to incur a loss on one 1875 half eagle. Unless—”

From the pocket of his waistcoat, Kepler produced a pair of yellowed dice.

“A simple game of chance,” said Kepler. “You throw one die, I throw the other. Highest wins. If you score high, I’ll let you keep the coin. Score low, and you forfeit.”

Dealers like Reuben Hapgood were all gamblers, of a stripe.

“I’ll take that deal.”

Kepler tossed one of the dice to Reuben, and briefly shook his own in his fist before throwing a five. Reuben also shook, and threw a two.

Reuben held up his hands. He was beaten.

“It’s in the safe,” he said.

“Then get it.”

Reuben stood and approached the safe.

“And Mr. Hapgood?”

Reuben looked back.

“Don’t touch that little pistol on the top shelf.”

And Reuben thought: Shit.

CHAPTER XIX

Raum Buker locked the door of the storage unit, checked it was secure, and headed back to his car. Ambar had taken care of the rental fees for the unit while he’d been in prison, but he’d already paid back some of what he owed her. He might even pay back the rest, everything going well, as long as she didn’t bitch at him too much. The unit contained most of his worldly goods, which didn’t amount to a whole lot: some clothes, a few pieces of furniture, bits of paperwork, and various possessions from his childhood that had survived the fire in his parental home, and which he was too sentimental to get rid of. He could still smell the smoke on some of them. Given the particulate nature of scents, he supposed that microscopic fragments of his parents probably constituted an element, which was another reason to hold on to them. His mom and pop might have been stone-cold losers, but neither of them had ever raised a hand to him, and they’d brought him up as best they could. True, they hadn’t been much for hugs, but neither was Raum.

One of his pockets jingled as he walked away from the lockup. It contained five quarters, three dimes, a couple of nickels, and a Roman gold aureus struck to commemorate Faustina the Elder, wife of the emperor Antoninus Pius, who was deified by the Roman Senate after her death in about A.D. 141. The coin was worth $3,000–4,000, but Raum had agreed to accept $2,000 from an online dealer in return for a quick sale. He had promised Egon he wouldn’t do anything with the coins until he received the all clear, but Egon was currently elsewhere, negotiating the dispersal of the first portion of the Kepler trove. Raum was in need of funds, and there were plenty more coins where this one came from. Admittedly, it would now be the third Raum had sold, but the dealer had promised discretion, and a man had to live, especially after years of incarceration.

Raum’s arm was itching like crazy. It was always worse after he visited the unit, and he knew he wouldn’t sleep well that night. It was Egon’s fault, with his damn stories. He’d planted strange ideas in Raum’s head, but if those ideas made them rich, then Raum could put up with them for a while longer—but not for too long, he hoped, because the nightmares were becoming very, very bad.

Even when he was awake.

CHAPTER XX

In the front of the store, Reuben Hapgood completed the proof of purchase, and handed over the half eagle and accompanying paperwork to Kepler, who added both to the black cloth bag containing his recovered possessions, as well as the Springfield 911 pistol from the safe, the Ruger, and a second Ruger that Reuben kept under the main counter. Reuben had to concede that the man was meticulous. He had even deactivated the surveillance system, a fact of which Reuben became aware only when Kepler produced the hard drive and stamped it to pieces in front of him.

“Are we done?” said Reuben.

“I think so,” said Kepler. “Unless you give me cause to return.”

“I won’t talk to the police, if that’s what you mean,” although Reuben had been considering doing exactly that once he’d cleared the store of any items with provenance open to dispute.

“What would you tell them?” said Kepler. “That you were forced at gunpoint to sell a valuable coin for a dollar? They might believe you, or they might not, assuming they could even find me. But I’ve been playing this game for a very long time, Mr. Hapgood, longer than you can even begin to imagine. I’ve monitored your sales, both open and clandestine. You operate in some very gray areas, and you’ve left a trail. If you were to cause difficulties for me, I would be forced to cause difficulties for you, all for a half eagle illegally obtained to begin with.”

“How did—?” Reuben began to ask, before stopping because it wasn’t worth proceeding any further. He’d bought the half eagle for $45,000 from a thief-turned-multiple-murderer who was now sitting in a cell at Walls Unit in Texas, waiting for the Supreme Court to turn down his final appeal so the state could proceed with his execution. Reuben had been hoping that the eminent justices might seal the deal sooner rather than later, just in case the condemned man decided to ease his way into the next life by confessing his sins in this one. Looking on the bright side, which wasn’t very bright, this was now one less worry for Reuben.

Kepler produced two sets of cable ties from the pocket of his overcoat. Reuben looked at them in alarm.

“There’s no call for those,” he said.

“I’ve found that absence makes some hearts grow braver,” said Kepler. “I’ll secure your hands and feet, but otherwise you’ll be free to move. I’m sure you can find a way to get to a blade, by which time I’ll be well gone.”

Reuben wasn’t happy about this, but he knew there could have been worse conclusions. He put his hands behind his back, docile as a lamb, then lay on his belly so a tie could be applied to his ankles. The restraints were uncomfortable, but not so tight as to cut off his circulation. When he was done, Kepler helped him to a sitting position and squatted beside him.

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