25
Isaac bell saw Wish Clarke waiting for him on the platform at Chicago’s Union Depot. His face was red, his eyes bright blue pinpricks nearly buried in puffy flesh.
Bell jumped off before the train stopped rolling. “Do we have Laurence Rosania?”
“Chicagos leading fencer
of stolen property reports that the son of a gun is so sure of himself, he’s negotiating terms for jewels he hasn’t even stolen yet.”
“How’d you learn that?” asked Bell, deeply impressed. Wish stank like a distillery this morning, but how many detectives could pry such gold out of a fence?
“He owes me a favor,” Wish answered.
“Big one.”
“It was. I didn’t shoot him when I have every right to and he knows it. Also, he was irritated that a jewel thief had the nerve to compare prices with his chief competitor. I reminded him that Mr. Rosania is in a class by himself, but he was not in a charitable mood.”
“Did he tell you what Rosania is planning to steal?”
“A necklace comprised of a fifteen-carat, heart-shaped pink diamond on a string of two-carat gems.”
“That should narrow it down to the very rich.”
“No one ever called Rosania a piker. At any rate, we’ll watch the fence, and his competitor, and when our safecracker shows up with the loot we’ll grab him.”
“When?”
“Soon, was my man’s impression.”
“No,” said Bell. “We don’t have time to sit around waiting for him.”
“A few days.”
“But what if Rosania decides to lay low — do the smart thing, let the dust settle before he shops them? It could take weeks. We don’t have weeks.”
“I’m open to better ideas,” said Wish Clarke. “Got any?”
“Wire Grady Forrer in the New York field office.”
“Who’s that?”
“The new fellow I told you about who Mr. Van Dorn made chief of the research division.”
“Research division? When did that happen?”
“About a month ago,” said Bell. Wish looked perplexed, and Bell recalled Van Dorn saying, God knows where Wish Clarke is. “The Boss is moving quickly,” he explained, “adding on all sorts of things.”
“What modernity will he dream up next?” Wish pretended to marvel. “O.K. So what do I wire this Furrier?”
“Forrer. Grady Forrer. He’s a sharp one. See what he’s got in his newspaper files on prominent Chicagoans shopping for jewels in New York.”
“They’re not going to print in the paper that Mrs. Thickneck bought a pink diamond necklace.”
“We can read between the lines. Particularly in the Society sections. Match Chicago buyers in New York to upcoming balls in Chicago and get a jump on Mr. Rosania’s shopping plans.”
“Interrupt him in the middle of the job?”
“I’d rather grab him as he comes out.”