Page 35 of The Diamond Thief
I watch Jade over my glass. She has a nervous tick she should learn to control, her ankle swinging back and forth. Our eyes meet, and hers dart away immediately. She wonders about my game. I suppose she thinks I will kill her. Of course not. That is not my trade. The Den has assassins for that, and whatever we can’t do or prefer not to handle, we contract out with the Vigilantes.
But only the senior members of the Den are aware of that organization. This girl would not know Jax or any of the men and women who fight those causes. They do not approve of us, of course, all wanting their version of justice. But we sometimes find ourselves on the same side of hero versus villain.
I tap my phone and instruct the driver to go ahead and catch up with the armored truck. I might exercise the option to finish the job and take the girl. Or take the girl without the job. Whatever throws her the most off balance, I will do.
“Where did our guard go?” Elena asks.
“He’s following in my car,” I say.
The van subtly increases speed. The tech is not quite Vigilante level but includes your basic scrambling of radar interception by law enforcement.
I watch Jade. Her eyes are lovely and deep. Her makeup is almost a caricature today. Japanese anime perhaps. I don’t dislike it, but I vastly prefer her look from the other night. Except maybe the hair. Blond suits her. Long or short, it does not matter to me.
After about twenty minutes, our mark arrives in the field of vision outside the window. Standard armored truck, brown and silver, hugging the inside lane.
“Is it me, or is that truck driving faster than company standards?” Elliott asks.
“It is,” I say. “He might be behind schedule.”
“I show him as half an hour ahead,” Elliott says.
“Perhaps he has some reason for his defiance of the rules.”
Elliott taps his nose. “If I were a betting man, I would say he’s trying to get ahead so that he can make a stop along the route.”
Elena’s head pops up. “Do you think he’s in on another job?”
“It’s always possible,” I say. “This seemed like a minor haul, but it wouldn’t be the first time that someone has hidden the most valuable contents of an exhibit to either avoid tempting people like us or because they intend to hit it themselves.” I turn to Elliott. “What was the quality of the information you procured about this particular shipment?”
“Average,” he says, lifting his eyebrows meaningfully. “Perhaps embellished.”
Of course. The Fife tiara is a lie. It was removed from the Kensington Collection last week for a minor repair. But it is most definitely not in an armored truck en route to Seattle. According to the insurance taken out on this collection, the entire value of the truck is less than one million.
We only included the Fife tiara in the presentation to draw out Jade. But what if we unintentionally drove up the value of a job? Maybe there was a leak in the Den and someone else decided to go for the tiara, even though it isn’t there.
“Let’s speed up this operation,” I say. “Or else we call it off.”
“No!” Jade cries. “That tiara is the only reason I’m here!”
I raise an eyebrow at her outburst, and she squirms in her seat. “It’s not worth the risk without it,” she adds.
“Have you thought this one through, boss?” Elliott asks. I know he means that at some point, if we run the job, Jade will realize we’ve lied about the Fife tiara.
“Of course I have,” I say. “I think everything through.”
I do not care whatsoever if Jade is upset about the absence of her treasured tiara. My endgame has nothing to do with the contents of that truck. It’s only about the swords.
