Dave Zeltserman - Outsourced

Joel was surprised when he answered the phone and heard his uncle Hymie demanding to know what type of trouble he had gotten himself into.

“Calm down, Uncle Hymie.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” There was a silence, then the old man continued in a low whisper. “A reward is being offered for information about uncut diamonds. Do you want to know who’s offering this reward?”

Joel didn’t bother answering. He waited for his uncle to tell him it was Viktor Petrenko.

“I’ve asked about this person,” his uncle went on. “He’s a thug, a dangerous man. In Russia, he was an interrogator for the KGB. Do you know what that means, Joel? Do you have any idea what type of person you stole from?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t steal anything.”

“You’re going to lie to me? You think I’m some fercockt meshuggina to believe your nonsense? What’s wrong with you to think you could do something like this, getting yourself mixed up with an animal like Petrenko? Do you have brains in your head?”

“Don’t you lecture me. I never let Pop talk to me like that and I’m sure as hell not going to let you!”

Joel looked out his window and spotted Dan and his Indian buddy walking up his driveway. These two fucking momsers have to bother me now? he thought as he watched them approach.

“You little pisher,” his uncle was saying. “You’re going to talk to your uncle like that?” Then, “Hello, hello? Joel, you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here,” Joel said. He walked over to his desk, unlocked the bottom drawer and took out a twenty-two caliber semi-automatic handgun. He checked to make sure it was loaded. While he would’ve liked more firepower, this would have to do. There was a knock on his front door. Peering out a window, he could see the two of them waiting for him. “Uncle, look, I’m sorry about what I said. I lost my temper. But I didn’t steal any diamonds.” Lowering his voice, “Don’t mention any of this to anyone, okay?”

“You really think I’m fercockt?” There was a pause, then his uncle added, “Joel, get rid of those diamonds. Throw them away if you have to. Don’t be stupid. The next funeral I go to I want to be my own, understand?”

“Uncle Hymie, I appreciate what you’re saying. And don’t worry about anything.”

“I’m not the one who should be worrying. Don’t ever talk to me about those diamonds again,” his uncle said before hanging up.

Joel stood glowering at the phone handset before throwing it hard across the room. The handset splintered when it hit the wall, scattering pieces across the floor.

That KGB son of a bitch!

He could screw Petrenko several times over if he sent those computer disks and videotapes to the FBI. If they got their hands on that stuff, they’d send that Ruskie to prison for a long fucking time. Joel had looked at enough of it to know what he had. Records of money laundering and payoffs, and if that wasn’t enough for that blackmailing KGB son of a bitch, videotapes of sordid sex acts. Well, now the shoe was on the other foot. Joel knew he wouldn’t be able to unload those diamonds while Petrenko was on the streets, but if he could figure out a way to send a package to the FBI without having to worry about it being traced back to him…

There was another knock on the door. Joel remembered Dan and his friend standing out there. Holding the gun waist-high, he swung the door open.

“Are you two fucking morons?” Joel asked, his mouth frozen in a hard sneer. “I told you what would happen if I saw either of you again.”

Dan took a step back on seeing the gun. His friend inched forward, his muscles tensing.

“Take a step back now, Gunga, or you’re dead.”

Shrini’s eyes moved from the gun to Joel’s face. Reluctantly, he followed Joel’s order.

“This isn’t going to work,” Dan said. “You’re going to have to give us our cut.”

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s working just fine. The frame for that Mafioso worked as planned and I’m sitting with all the money. I don’t see any reason why I should give you shit.”

“Joel, you know this isn’t fair-”

“Fuck you. I warned you what would happen if your nutso pal screwed things up for us.” Joel grimaced as he absent-mindedly rubbed his jaw. “Because of Gordon I have to live with that dead girl on my conscience the rest of my life.”

“We all have to.”

“But I shouldn’t.” Joel shook his head, trying to force out the thought that Eric, and by extension himself, had contributed to what happened. “Sorry, Dan,” he said. “You’re not getting a dime.”

“Joel, we saw how much money we took from those boxes. There’s enough for all of us.”

“Forget it. You’re the one who promised Gordon would behave himself. This is your fault, not mine.”

“Okay, let’s say it’s my fault. At least give Shrini his cut.”

“I’m not doing that.” Joel shifted his gaze to Shrini. “Take my advice, Gunga, just be grateful you’re still alive.”

Shrini had been fuming. This was too much for him. “Can you believe this peacock?” he exclaimed. “We plan the robbery, invite him along and he’s going to strut about believing he and his pig friend deserve all the money!”

“Peacock, huh?” Joel’s mouth dropped into a humorless grin. “Eh, I’ve been called worse. And guess what? It doesn’t matter whether I think I deserve all the money. What matters is I got all the money.”

“What do you mean you’ve got all the money?” Dan asked. He took another small step backwards. “What about your buddy?”

“Eric’s not around any more.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Joel didn’t bother to answer him.

“Dammit, Joel! You’re trying to send the police after all of us?”

“Don’t get hysterical. Nobody’s going to miss him.”

As the three of them stood staring at each other, the anger brewing inside of Shrini boiled over.

“You’re a coward,” Shrini said to Joel. “A peacock with a big yellow tail. Believe me, if you weren’t holding a gun I’d kick you and your tail feathers all over the place.”

“I’m getting sick of this,” Joel said, his grin completely gone, his eyes turning glassy. He faced Dan. “Give me one good reason why I don’t get rid of both of you right now?”

“Carol knows I’m seeing you,” Dan started to say. His voice cracked. He had to swallow before he could continue. “If I don’t come home later, she’ll send the police here.”

“So? What do you think they’d find? I know plenty of places in New Hampshire where I can bury two bodies.” He aimed the gun towards Shrini’s chest, then remembered Eric. The cops would probably bring corpse-sniffing dogs to search his property. Those dogs would find him. Even without the dogs, the cops would be able to spot his grave easily enough. If he were to kill these two, he’d have to dig up Eric and move his corpse as well. He’d also have to explain to the cops why it looked like he had a freshly dug grave on his property. The thought of doing all that tired him out. Lowering his gun, he told the two of them to beat it. “If I see either of you again, you’re dead,” he said.

“I’m not leaving without my money,” Shrini insisted.

Giving him one last weary look, Joel shot Shrini in the foot.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Shrini howled, hopping up and down. Dismayed, he turned to Dan. “This peacock shot me,” he said, still not quite believing it himself.

“Next one will be through the heart,” Joel warned. “Get out of here, both of you.”

“Joel, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” Dan demanded. He waved a hand towards Shrini’s wounded foot. “How are we going to explain this?”