The Con Man (87th Precinct) - By Ed McBain Page 0,48
want to know?”
“Are they real?”
“They’re not paste, I can tell you that immediately.” He nodded. “Impossible to say whether they’re cultured or genuine Oriental without having them x-rayed, though. I’d have to send them out of the shop for that.”
“How much are they worth?” Parsons asked.
The jeweler shrugged. “If they’re cultured, you can get between ten and twenty-five dollars for each pearl. If they’re genuine Oriental, the price is much higher.”
“How much higher?”
“Judging from the size of these, I’d say between a hundred and two hundred for each pearl. At least a hundred.” He paused. “How much did you want for them?”
“A thousand,” Parsons said.
“You’ve got a sale,” the jeweler answered.
“I’m not selling,” Parsons said. “I’m buying.”
“How many are in that sack?” the jeweler asked. “About seventy-five pearls?”
“A hundred,” Parsons said.
“Then you can’t go wrong. Even if they’re cultured, you’d get at least ten dollars for each pearl—so there’s your thousand right there. And if they’re genuine Oriental, you stand to make a phenomenal profit. If they’re genuine Oriental, you can get back ten times your investment. I’d have them x-rayed at once, if I were you.”
Parsons grinned. “Thank you,” he said. “Thanks a lot.”
“Don’t mention it,” the jeweler said. He put his eyepiece back in place and bent over his watch again.
Parsons took the young man to one side. “What do you think?” he asked.
“Looks like a good deal,” the young man said.
“I know. Listen, I can’t let this hick get away from me.”
“He’s willing to sell. What makes you think he’ll try to get away?”
“That’s just it. If these pearls are genuine Oriental, he’s sitting on a fortune. I’ve got to buy them before he has them x-rayed himself.”
“I see what you mean,” the young man said.
“The trouble is, I live in the next state. By the time I got to my bank, it’d be closed. This fellow isn’t going to wait until tomorrow, that’s for sure.”
“I guess not,” the young man said.
“Do you live in the city?”
“Yes.”
“Do you bank here?”
“Yes.”
“Have you got a thousand dollars in the bank?”
“Yes.”
“I hate to do this,” Parsons said.
“Hate to do what?”
Parsons smiled. “I hate to cut you in on such a sweet deal.”
“Would you?” the young man asked, interest showing in his eyes.
“What choice do I have? If I asked our hick to wait until tomorrow, I’d lose him.”
“Fifty-fifty split?” the young man asked.
“Now, wait a minute,” Parsons said.
“Why not? I’ll be putting up the money.”
“Only until tomorrow. Besides, he’s my hick. You wouldn’t have known anything about this if I hadn’t stopped you.”
“Sure, but you can’t buy those pearls if I don’t go to the bank.”
“That’s true.” Parsons’ eyes narrowed. “How do I know you won’t take the pearls and then refuse to sell me my half tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t do a thing like that,” the young man said.
“I want your address and telephone number,” Parsons said.
“All right,” the young man said. He gave them to Parsons, and Parsons wrote them down.
“How do I know these are legitimate?” Parsons asked. “Let me see your driver’s license.”
“I don’t drive. You can check it in the phone book.” He turned to the jeweler. “Have you got an Isola directory?”
“Never mind,” Parsons said. “I trust you. But I’ll be at your apartment first thing tomorrow morning to give you my five hundred dollars and to get my share of the pearls.”
“All right,” the young man said. “I’ll be there.”
“God, this is a great deal, isn’t it? If they’re genuine, we’ll be rich. And if they’re cultured, we break even. We can’t lose.”
“It’s a good deal,” the young man agreed.
“Let’s get to the bank before he changes his mind.”
O’Neill was waiting for them outside. “Well?” he asked.
“He said they’re not paste,” Parsons told him.
“See? What’d I tell you? Did he say they’re worth a thousand?”
“He said they might be worth about that.”
“Well, do we have a deal, or don’t we?”
“I’ll have to go home for my passbook,” the young man said.
“All right. We’ll go with you.”
The three men hailed a cab, and the cab took them uptown. The young man got out, and the cab waited. When he came down again, he had his bankbook with him. He gave the cabbie instructions, and the three men drove to the bank. They all got out then, and Parsons paid the cabbie. The young man went into the bank, and when he came out, he had a thousand dollars in cash with him.
“Here’s the money,” he said.
Parsons grinned happily.
The young man handed the thousand dollars to O’Neill.
“And