Dave Zeltserman - Outsourced

Petrenko removed the magazine from the Glock and handed the empty gun to Abbas. “If I wanted to kill you and steal your diamonds I could do so easily,” he said. “I do not wish to do that, though. I am hoping you and your friends will stop acting like children and that this can be the first of many business transactions between the two of us.”

Abbas was shaking with a combination of fear and rage. “We had a deal! Only English!”

“He doesn’t speak English, only Russian,” Petrenko said, waving a hand towards the jeweler. “All he said to me was that the clarity of the diamonds is sub par and they are only worth twenty thousand dollars.”

“That’s right, each diamond is worth twenty thousand dollars!”

“No, twenty thousand dollars for all ten. Because I want future business deals between us, I will pay you sixty percent of what all ninety diamonds are worth. A hundred and eight thousand dollars.”

“They are worth twenty times that!”

“No they are not.” Petrenko stopped for a moment to rub the area above both temples. “And quit shouting. You are giving me a headache. So do we have a deal?”

Abbas was close to epileptic, both too furious and scared to do anything but move his lips in some sort of internal dialogue. He looked helplessly at his two companions. The one next to him still had a knife edge held against his throat, the other was sitting on the floor holding his injured hand.

“You can turn me down if you want to,” Petrenko added. “There will be no hard feelings on my part. If you want, try to find someone who will pay more. You can always take a trip to the New York Jewelry District and see if anyone there will do business with you.”

Abbas tried answering, but couldn’t get the words out. Finally, after his third attempt, he sputtered, “You will kill us if I turn you down.”

“No, I don’t think so. You don’t want to do business, fine, we leave. But I don’t think you’re going to find a better price.”

Yuri backed away. The heavyset Arab had turned somewhat green, and was rubbing his throat where the blade had left an indentation. Abbas looked at him and then his companion still sitting on the floor. He licked his lips. “I will think about your offer,” he said sourly.

Petrenko shrugged. “You know how to reach me. Don’t think too long, though.” He then turned and left the house. The jeweler hobbled out next. After that, Yuri closed his knife and walked backwards out of the house.

Once in the car Yuri turned to Petrenko. “You sure you don’t want to go back in there and take those diamonds? Five minutes we’re done.”

Petrenko shook his head. “If we’re patient they will sell us all of their diamonds. And more in the future. We’re offering only a fraction of what they were looking for. They will need to make up the difference by bringing in more diamonds to sell us. For them, diamonds are easy to smuggle into this country, cash is not.” He paused as he made a fist and rubbed a thumb over his knuckles, feeling the hard calluses that covered them. “Besides,” he added, “if I went back in there I would want much more than five minutes.”

After his messy divorce, Captain Kenneth Hadley jumped from the Somerville to the Lynn police force when the opening presented itself. All he did, though, was trade one problem for another. Maybe he no longer had his ex-wife stumbling into his station screaming her accusations at him whenever she damn well pleased, but the job was no better. Just as in Somerville, he had to deal with the same urban crimes – car thefts, break-ins, drugs, youth gangs – but in Lynn he now had to deal with Russian mobsters. And, as in Somerville, he now suspected that he had an officer drinking on the job. When Resnick had stepped into his office, Hadley detected a strong whiff of bourbon on his breath. Couldn’t the guy at least have had the decency to chew on a few mints before reporting back to the station? Resnick, though, seemed coherent, with no change in his typical bulldog manner and the same burning intensity. Hadley decided to let the matter drop. The guy was his best detective and there was nothing to indicate that this was anything more than an isolated incident. Still, he felt exhausted listening to Resnick complain about Viktor Petrenko and he was pretty sure the alcohol had something to do with loosening his detective up.

“There’s got to be something we can do,” Resnick was going on. “We can’t just let this son of a bitch terrorize our neighborhoods and business owners. I know he’s using his auto-body shop as a chop shop. Let me sit on it until we can get something on him, or better yet, let me follow him around, put some pressure on him.”

Hadley looked at his watch. They’d been arguing this for ten minutes now. “Alex, with all the state cutbacks in funding we’re shorthanded as it is. I can’t lose you for God-knows-how-long on some wild goose chase. Besides, the victim stated from the hospital that it was an accident and his wife was more than happy to corroborate him, claiming he tripped.”

“They’re both afraid.”

“I have to go with what they say-”

“The store just magically got trashed. Maybe the air conditioner was on too strong and blew an eighty-pound cash register out the front window.”

Hadley lifted his palms up in a sign of futility. “Unless these people are willing to come forward my hands are tied.” He edged closer to his detective, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone. “Look at it from my point of view: one way we’ve got an open case that needs manpower assigned to it. The other way, the way it currently stands, the case is closed. As it is we already have far too many open cases.”

“Ken, that’s a lousy way to look at it. Besides, we put Petrenko away and we’re going to end up with a lower caseload down the road. Damn it, there’s got to be something we can do.”

“There is something you can do,” Hadley said. “Take the rest of the day off. You’re looking a bit under the weather.”

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not. I can’t have police officers drinking on the job. Not that I’m accusing you of anything. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a little worn out and can use a few hours off.”

Resnick stared into Hadley’s pale blue eyes before turning away, nodding. “I’ve never touched the stuff before while on duty. Something about Petrenko, I don’t know… I’ll put in extra hours tomorrow to make up for this,” he said.

“Not necessary. You’ve put in more than enough extra hours since I’ve been here. Try not to get under the weather like this again, okay?”

“You’ve got my word.”

As Resnick walked out of Hadley’s office, he acknowledged Maguire’s questioning look with a shrug. “I’ve been told I’m feeling under the weather,” Resnick informed his partner. “I’m taking the rest of the day off. Be here bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Lesson learned,” Maguire said, a smart-alecky grin tightening on his face. “Booze up on the job and get some time off.”

“Not a good lesson to have taught you. I apologize.”

As Resnick walked away, Maguire tried telling him that he was only yanking his chain. Resnick waved a hand, letting his partner know not to worry about it.

Alex Resnick met his ex-wife while in college. She was a beautiful redhead from Long Island with a peaches and cream complexion and the most dazzling green eyes he had ever seen. At the time he was a political science major and was expecting to go to law school after graduation. On a whim he took the Lynn police entrance exam and posted a perfect score. His dad tried like hell to talk him out of joining the force.

“Alex,” his dad told him, “why do something like this? You can make a real life for yourself as a lawyer. Don’t make this mistake. If you need money, I’ll find a way to help you.”