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89 pages

English

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Description

Self-reliance is what makes America tick for young Frederick Falloy, a private detective working on his first case in Chicago, 2014. It seems nothing but violence surrounds the stolen Cacaw Diamonds, which he must locate. He finds himself building a working relationship with a mentor--a veteran police officer named Phillip Grable, Homicide Division. Pushing his limits, he outsmarts his demons to find a way to win, no matter how the cards fall.

Sujets

Hard-Boiled

Detective

Mystery

Fiction

Informations

Publié par	Outskirts Press
Date de parution	17 mars 2017
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781478787686
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0500€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

The Diamond Escape
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2017 Sheila Bitts
v33.0

Cover Photo © 2017 thinkstockphotos.com. All rights reserved - used with permission.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Outskirts Press, Inc.
http://www.outskirtspress.com

ISBN: 978-1-4787-8768-6

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015909761

Outskirts Press and the “OP” logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
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Forensic Files
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Friends and Family
Table of Contents
Prologue
1. Very Soon and inPleasant Company
2. The Gallery
3. Kitchen Knife
4. Tea Leaves
5. The Small Things That Fall in Your Path
6. Every Girl’s Wish
7. The Secret of Getting Ahead Is Getting Started
8. The Residue of Design
9. Beauty Surrounds You Because You Create It
10. Strategy
11. Details
12. Best Buns on the Block
13. Golden Opportunity
14. Details in the Shadows
15. Things That Matter
16. Close Call
17. The Past Reveals Itself
18. Off the Case
19. Déjà Vu
20. Nightfall in Chinatown
21. Bird in a Cage
22. Results
23. British Socialists
24. Damn Good Tech
25. Black Market
26. About the Same as a Teacup
27. Slip Away
28. Whole
29. Widow Sheds Light
30. Double Take
31. Illumination
32. Escape
33. Destiny
34. Free for the Day
Epilogue
Prologue
Platinum Mine, Marikana, South Africa Eighty miles north of Johannesburg Thursday, August 16, 2012, 3:15 p.m. Two days after the sangoma’s blessing rite
The small bus full of miners drove in from the south, up from a diamond mine in Free State Province, to protest with the drillers in the platinum mines, who were on strike for better wages. Seeing as it was a clear day, no one predicted any contradiction to the sangoma’s blessing, which made the mood hopeful, but guarded. However, the miners knew they may have to risk injury in order to win their fight.
A Black South African man in his late twenties, visiting from another area mine, waved as the driver pulled in.
“I’ve got the reporter waiting by the water truck,” the man said with hope, then handed the driver a weighted flask in a black cloth bag, while the busload waited. He smiled and walked away, knowing his younger brother knew how to seal their deal with the photographer, as he was known for having a keen eye for seeing through people.
Driving up from the south was easy, without road blocks, and they arrived in good spirits. He unloaded his coworkers into the march, then walked over to the Jeep with the water cooler. After about half an hour of watching the American photographer and the investigative journalist talking with his friends and coworkers, the driver decided to approach the photographer.
A careful, but cavalier personality might be a trustworthy disguise, so long as he was truly careful. So, the driver began to agree that the deal would be fine, especially since the photographer seemed to know many of the people he photographed. Most of those men were his lifelong friends, many with the same wary nature.
Also, the driver found the photographer’s skill of catching the moment impressive. At this time, a youthful confidence exuded from the thirty-five-year-old photographer as he snapped shots of the protesters and the police. He stopped for a moment, realizing the situation. “Are you the diamond man?” he said carelessly.
The man laughed. He looked around for the reporter, then asked, “Where is Alain?”
“He’s interviewing the labor leader for you guys over there.” The photographer pointed in the direction of a thirty-year-old man trained as a platinum ore rock-drill operator wrapped in a light-green blanket talking with a white male investigative reporter in a business-casual short-sleeved black cotton shirt and pants, with black suede Hush Puppy loafers.
“I need some water,” the diamond man said.
“OK,” the photographer said loudly. As he moved closer, he spoke in a hushed voice when relaying the information to be shared. “See, I got everything right there in that red cooler under the snow cones.”
The diamond man opened the cooler and looked under the red, white, and blue snow cones.
“There is the money, dude. I wouldn’t betray a cause,” the photographer whispered triumphantly.
“How did you find those?” the diamond man said, pointing at the snow cones.
“I made them. Yeah, me and Alain—we opted to make them instead of ice cream last week.”
“Wow,” he said, truly amazed.
“Yep: food coloring,” he explained while drinking a small cup of water along with the diamond man.
“My brother said you’re named Jim,” the diamond man said, trying to confirm his connection.
“Yes,” Jim said, shaking his hand.
“OK, Jim, here,” the diamond man said, handing him the cloth bag with a plastic flask inside.
Jim opened it and saw the unpolished clear diamonds cushioned inside the flask, then relayed his feelings. “We are good to go.”
“OK if I take the Jeep?” the diamond man asked.
“Yes.” Jim nodded, then added, “Do you want a picture?”
“No, not this time,” the diamond man said but smiled anyway before climbing into the water truck and driving off.
His brother waved to him as he drove off in the Jeep. The diamond man’s brother walked up to Jim and asked, “Got what you need?”
“Yep,” Jim answered.
Alain motioned for Jim to take their picture before the rally got too much more heated. The multiracial police moved forward as the company’s security asked them to disperse the crowd. Since this tactic was not working, the police then assumed a more aggressive stance. Defiantly, the strikers chanted anticompany slogans while they fought for better pay.
As he was switching on the equipment, Alain skillfully spoke a small amount of isiZulu, enough for the local translator to understand. He then recorded the labor leader while he described how the Mine and Construction Workers Union led the rally as a breakaway union from the National Miners’ Union. Other workers from other area mines had joined the MCWU rally, but no one had seen any NMU buses so far.
Alain waved for Jim to come over a second time.
“Wait by your truck—we’ll be leaving soon,” Jim said to the diamond man’s brother, who looked concerned and a little angry.
“You can’t wait for the bus?” he asked.
“This doesn’t look safe—and tell someone to wait by the bus too,” Jim explained further.
“OK,” the diamond man’s brother said, then gathered four or five mine workers around him to tell them to ready their rides and the larger bus as well. He gave a thumbs-up to Jim, then went to ready the truck.
As Jim began running toward Alain and the labor leader to photograph the interview, shots fired out. People ran in every direction in terror. The labor leader bent forward with a pool of blood beneath him, then collapsed. Panicking, Alain looked up to see the police officer taunting without hesitation as he made eye contact. Jim and Alain managed to bring the labor leader to the mine worker’s truck and drove off with him to the hospital at top speed.
Some of the more militant strikers kept fighting back with protest chants, expecting the police to retreat, but the call had come; there’d be no retreat. Another round was fired into the crowd.
-Two Years After-
USA
North Side of Chicago, Illinois: Argyle, New Chinatown
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Very Soon and in Pleasant Company
Chapter One
Wednesday, June 4, 1:00 p.m.
“Noodles,” the man ordered.
“You’ve got choices; take a look at these,” the hostess said, then walked to the kitchen to get the waiter.
Looking down at his newspaper, the man saw the front page revealed a rare event, but not unlikely in these economic times: diamond theft at the Field Museum.
“They thought they were safe,” he said out loud.
The article described the theft of an $11 million diamond necklace. Stolen from the Field Museum on Tuesday, June 3, 2014 (just last night), the Cacaw Diamonds were cut, set, and strung on a necklace, seven stones per side, one stone dangling behind, and one teardrop center stone. Specifically, there were fourteen thirteen-carat round diamonds, a one-carat diamond attached to the clasp under a small chain, and a twenty-one-carat teardrop center diamond.
“The sweet sixteen,” the man said to himself, then read further.
They were new diamonds from Europe reported to have emerged on the market in or around the beginning of September 2012. Some South African diamonds that had the same quality and weight were reported missing the month prior, on the same day thirty-four striking miners were shot dead during a strike rally at a platinum mine in Marikana.
If they were indeed the same stones, bloodshed surrounded them, as they were lost in the chaos of the in-fighting of the workers, the hostilities of the company security, and the ignorance of the police who refused to defy their bosses’ command.
The South African government had yet to release the report on the murders, let alone the missing diamonds, as missing paperwork on their quality and sizes hindered the investigation.
Nonetheless, no one could prove the Cacaw Diamonds belonged to anyone but the current owner, Leon Velon, who had loaned them to the Field Museum until auction. He had hoped to make more than their market value at auction.
“What’s