Picture by Edward Hopper

 

 

 Story by Jonathan Dodd

 

Kylie sniffed. One long tapered fingernail delicately probed her left nostril, like a bear searching for honey with a single large claw. She withdrew it and inspected her catch, wrinkling her nose partly in irritation and also to gauge the effect. Living in the city, that must be it, she thought. Every breath had been in someone else’s lungs and through someone’s car engine. Like the water. But who cared. Really.

She flicked the bogey at Andy. It missed by a mile and stuck to the middle of the huge glass window overlooking the dark and empty street. He didn’t even notice. She turned to Dave. He hadn’t said anything for so long she was rather hoping he had turned to stone.

‘Well Babe, here we are!’ she said brightly, wrapping her hand round his arm and surreptitiously wiping her nail on it at the same time. ‘What are we going to do now?’

She caught the barman glaring at her and stared right back. What was he going to say? She would have loved to change out of her red dress and into something more comfortable. The damp patch was cool against her ribs and thighs and her feet were killing her. That was funny, in the circumstances. Who would have thought? But it was better not to think, she decided. Her coffee cup was half empty and cold. She sighed.

The place had been completely empty when they came in. Her, Dave, and Andy. Big Andy, like the skin on Dave’s back And the barkeep standing there wiping his hands, nodding nervously, like he had been waiting all evening for them. Well, he had.  They seated themselves on their stools quietly, like strangers, and stared into space. Coffee was poured and cups put in front of them in an eerie silence. They weren’t going to talk about it, she knew that. Besides, what was there to say that she could say to them? They weren’t thinking the same thoughts as her. Soon they would melt into the night, scurrying their different ways down the sidewalk between the pools of feeble light and listening for cars. That was the easy part. They had all grown up in the city.

They hadn’t really planned the job, not like in the movies. They hadn’t cased the joint and worked out how, or anything. It was just Kylie going past the old man’s door one day and he came out. She was wearing a red dress like this one. She knew she looked good in it, but she wasn’t looking for trade or anything, just feeling good on a sunny day, clacking down the sidewalk in high heeled shoes. He must have heard her when he was by the door. Maybe he was waiting for her. She had come that way before. She turned to look in the window and there he was.

‘Hi!’ he had said. Simple as that. ’Do you want to come in and see some jewellery? A pretty girl like you should have some gold and diamonds to show off your looks. Or maybe rubies.’

Well, what’s a girl going to do?

She was in there in no time flat, trying on that necklace and those earrings in the mirror. She could tell what he wanted, by those hands. Very busy hands. Nothing too obvious, just there. Fineman’s Jewellery. Fineman himself. She had looked at him there in the mirror, seen how he must have been years ago, touching the women, a finger on the neck here, tilt the head ever so gently there, his eyes on theirs, on hers now. She felt caressed by their very nearness. The heat of the bright lights and the sparkling of the jewellery and his low encouraging voice: she knew what was coming.

‘Do you like these things? You look really good in these earrings, they bring out the blue of your eyes. And the necklace, like this.’ And he came up close to her shoulder so she could feel his breath on her skin. His hand came round in front of her, the pointing finger tracing in the air the line of the necklace, moving down. ‘It would look wonderful with a low-cut dress. Red, like this one.’ He withdrew, leaving a trace of aftershave in the air for her to breathe as she turned.

‘I would like to see that,’ he said. And she could almost not see the wrinkled skin and the beginnings of liver spots on the back of his hands. She sensed his loneliness and felt herself starting to feel sorry for him. But she remained silent, fingering the necklace hanging heavy at her throat.

‘Why don’t you come back later. After the shop closes. I have some special items that I don’t keep here. Upstairs.’ His eyes rose to the ceiling. ‘In my apartment. You could try them on,’ He smiled. He tried to make it look open, and innocent, but she could tell what he was thinking. She kept her face neutral, took off all the bright shiny things and put them on the counter.

‘See you round,’ she said as she sashayed out the door. No point in burning your fingers when you could make the fire last through the night.

She had told Dave, of course. And he had gotten all excited about it, with all those possibilities for the quick buck and all. He had encouraged her to go past again, see if the offer was real. Sometimes those guys just say it to all the girls but never come through, he said. She had known it was real all right. But Dave liked to do the gangster thing so she chose another hot day and it had all gone like clockwork. Dave and Andy had loitered conspicuously on the other side of the street, casing the joint. They’d have been less obvious smoking a joint, she thought, but kept that to herself. She didn’t expect anything to come of it. She surprised herself when she agreed to go up to old man Fineman’s apartment that evening. After dark. So quite late. Much too late for ordinary business. But this wasn’t going to be ordinary business. Everyone knew that.

‘OK. This is what you do.’ Dave’s voice had gone down to a whisper, even though they were on a street corner half a mile downtown with a lot of traffic going past. ‘He lets you in, you get him comfortable, you go to the bathroom, you text me, then you open the front door. We come in and take over. That’s all you need to do. You got that?’

‘Sure I got that. A rocket scientist might have trouble with it, but for me it’s a push-over. There’s one thing troubling me though. You’re only a rocket scientist. What’s the rest of the plan?’

‘You don’t need to know that.’ He shifted uneasily, from foot to foot.

Kylie sighed. He really was just like a little kid. ‘Hey. Are you going to rough him up? Are you going to shoot him? What are you going to do? Because that’s serious business and I don’t want to get involved in that stuff.’

‘No! Of course not! Here!’ He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a camera. ‘We’re going to take some pictures. Just some fun stuff, you know! Enough so he’ll worry about the papers. And we won’t take him for much. Just scare him a bit. First time, anyway!’

‘Hey! I get to say something here! You’re going to be the other side of the camera. What sort of “fun” stuff? If I get in the papers it’s not going to be rolling around with some old guy in his bedroom!’

‘No, of course not! Underwear, that’s all. Maybe. You maybe take your dress off. That’s all. Maybe I don’t even put film in the camera. We just scare him a little, that’s all!’

Kylie looked at him suspiciously. ‘You better be right about that. I’m not that kind of girl!’

‘Oh no? What do you think he’s inviting you up there for? Lemonade?’

‘That’s different.’ But he had a point, she knew. What was she getting involved in this for? No good idea flowed into her head so she shook herself and started walking. ‘OK. Let’s do it.’ After all, what’s a girl to do?

They made sure there wasn’t anyone else on the sidewalk and then she stepped round the corner and crossed the road. Fineman’s shop was dark and the grill was down, but there was a light on above it and behind the small side door. She rang the bell and stepped back.

Footsteps approached down a flight of stairs, and there was a great undoing of locks after she had been identified through the glass. Eventually old man Fineman opened the door and beckoned her in. His hand was shaking slightly and she saw a sheen of sweat on his brow. He mopped himself with a handkerchief. He’s more nervous than me, she thought, as he peered down the street and locked up again. Those locks will take a while to undo. Let’s hope he’s deaf too.

‘Go on up!’ He waved his handkerchief at her. She was conscious of his eyes on her as she stepped up, and she couldn’t help herself giving him a bit of a show. There was a small landing. ‘Straight ahead! Go on in!’ And there was a parlour, with windows overlooking the street and armchairs and flowery wallpaper. Somehow she had imagined him in a much more masculine room, like he did this all the time.

‘Don’t mind the décor. I haven’t changed it since my wife died. It seems like too much trouble, and it’s comfortable. I like it.’ He closed the door and turned the light down a little. ‘Take a seat if you like. Do you like wine?’

‘Yes. Please.’ Something was troubling Kylie. She knew what it was, but refused to name it. He did so for her.

‘Here. Your health!’ They clinked glasses and he indicated an armchair while he sank into the settee opposite. He took a long sip and stared into space for a moment before turning his eyes directly on her. ‘I think we’re both hiding things from each other. That’s not a good way to start. Please sit down.’ She had started to rise but he waved his hand at her. ‘No, no. Listen to me first.’ He wiped his face again.

‘You probably thought I do this kind of thing all the time. That was certainly true in my younger days, so I could remember how. But then I met my wife and all that changed. She died three years ago and I never cheated on her, even though it would have been easy. And I haven’t cheated on her since. But I saw you walking down the street that day and something about you reminded me of her. That’s a compliment, by the way.’

He laughed at his own joke even though Kylie sat quite still, almost mesmerised. He took another long sip, then looked at her again.

‘Call them off. Please. I’ve been in the jewellery business for a lifetime and I know what happens next. More variations than you can imagine, I suppose. I know your name and address and there’s a letter at my solicitors. If anything happens to me it won’t take long for you and your accomplices to be caught.’ He kept his eyes on her, but she could see him breathing heavily and the colour draining from his face. There was some great effort involved. She thought about speaking, but he got in first. ‘If you call them off I promise that there’ll be no consequences for you. I’m hardly in a condition to do you any physical damage, and I’m not going to ask you for anything immoral.’

Kylie was troubled by that strange word. Immoral! What did he mean? But she wasn’t stupid, and she recognised that this old guy had more intelligence than Dave and Andy put together. She pulled out her cell phone and hit the button for Dave.

‘Hey. It’s me. It’s a wash. He’s on to us. Forget it. Meet me later. Usual place. Yeah. No. Go on now. Yeah. I’m OK. Yeah. I’ll be careful.’ All the time she was watching Mr Fineman’s eyes. There was something electric in the air between them. She had no idea what it was.

She clicked the phone shut. ‘OK, Mr Fineman, you heard. It’s off.’ Then, for no obvious reason, she added, ‘I’m sorry.’ Where had that come from?

‘Thank you my dear. Please call me Len. That’s what my friends call me.’ And he raised his glass. ‘To friends.’ She raised hers too, and echoed the toast. ‘To friends.’

‘Isn’t it strange,’ he said, ‘how everyone is such a curious mixture of strength and weakness? I’m a jeweller, it’s my stock in trade. I spent a lifetime looking at customers and I just know where their fault lines lie.’

‘Oh? So where’s mine?’

‘You, my dear, have a streak of daring. And of curiosity. The first one brought you here and the second allowed you to make that call. I’m very glad you did.’

Kylie agreed, but she wasn’t going to let him know that.

‘That’s on one side, along with your need to appear tough.’

‘So what’s on the other side?’

‘Ah! An unexpected but rather endearing tendency towards tenderness and even sentimentality.’ And he laughed as she felt herself blush. ‘It’s OK. You can be mad at me for saying it, but I don’t hear you denying it. I may be old but my mind still works!’

Kylie drained her glass and decided she needed either to drink a lot more or get out of  here fast. But she still didn’t know what he wanted. She had a horrible feeling he could reach right in and read her mind. If he had only been thirty years younger! Even twenty! She blushed again.

‘Yes.’ He sat forward. ‘Right now I wish I was a young man again. But I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone else living. Not my kids or my friends even.’ He waved at a small table laden with framed photos. ‘Yes, I have a family. Children and grandchildren. Scattered all over the country, all waiting for me to die so they can split the prize.’ Kylie looked shocked. He waved his hand. ‘It can’t be helped. Jewellery does that even to the best of people.’

‘I’ll tell you my secret now, and then we’ll do business. I’m dying. I have a heart disease and the old ticker isn’t going to last long. This is what I want you to do, and this is your payment.’ He pulled out a slim box from his pocket and pressed the catch. Inside, on a white satin lining, were the gold and ruby necklace and ear-rings that she remembered from that day in the shop. They lay there sparkling in the light, beckoning to her.

‘All I want is for you to put these on and for me to see you wearing them for a little while. And then for you to sit down here next to me,’ he patted the settee, ‘and for you to hold me, just hold me, for a while. For the last time in my life. So I can remember you and tonight. That’s all.’ And he held the box out to her with a trembling hand, suddenly the old weak man again.

Kylie reached forward for the box. Her hand went out automatically. What could a girl do, after all? She held the box with both hands reverently in front of her, but not looking at its contents, fixed instead on Mr Fineman – Len, as he stared at her.

 ‘Is that it? Is that all? And for that you’ll give me these?’ He nodded solemnly so she could have no doubt. ‘Silly old fool,’ she thought. ‘I can do that all right.’

‘Yes. Please. That’s all.’

She put down the box and turned towards a large mirror over the mantel. She got up as elegantly as she could and picked up the ear-rings, intently aware of his gaze, on her back and in the mirror. She placed one on the mantel and felt for the hole in the lobe. The metal hung heavily, pulling gently at her skin and sending a shiver down her neck and back. The blood-red stone sparkled and twinkled invitingly. Slowly she inserted the second ear-ring and turned, feeling them swing in the still air and brush against the skin of her neck and jaw. She reached down for the necklace and turned towards the mirror again. The metal lay warm on her collar bones as it slid into place, and she felt for the fastening, aware of the effect of raising her arms. The room was warm and quiet and still and she was suffused with feeling for the old man – Len, sitting motionless, transfixed by the sight of her. Her. Kylie.

She stood still for a moment and then swayed as she made her legs move again. She walked to the window and turned around to face him. His hand motioned her to walk again although his eyes never left her. As she went past she heard a sound from him, and when she turned she could see his eyes watering. He dabbed at them and beckoned her and she sat on the settee, next to him, close enough to smell that he had made an effort to be clean and fresh for her, even though there was an underlying scent of something unhealthy there. She felt sorry for him suddenly, and reached out her arm across his shoulders. For a moment it was as if there was nobody else in the world.

She pulled him closer and his head came down, not to kiss her, but against her breasts. She could feel him breathing harshly, and there was damp, as if he was crying. Was he crying? She stroked his thinning hair. Let him cry. Poor Len. He must have been very lonely. Gently, and very slightly, she began to rock, and to whisper to him, that it was all right, everything was all right. Time stood still. The moment became all of time and of space and nothing else existed. Then he shuddered and was still. His head came to rest on her lap and she knew he wasn’t breathing any more. She sat and stroked his head for a little longer, as if making sure he had all gone, quite gone, and she stared and stared at the wall, and at the framed photos, and at the door.

After that she lifted his head and arranged him on the settee, gently and reverently, picked up his phone and dialled the Police. Then she wiped down the phone and her glass and tidied a few more things, then crept down the stairs and let herself out into the night.

Later on, at Phillies, sitting with Dave who wasn’t speaking to her, and Andy, who hardly ever spoke at all, she thought about all the things she could have done with the money from that jewellery and she remembered putting it back in the box and leaving it on the mantel. She had to do that. After all, what else could a girl do?