Kill Me if You Can - James Patterson [57]
“I’m an inadequate photographer, Mr. de Smet. These diamonds are better than they look, and they’re worth thirteen.”
He didn’t blink.
I sipped my beer. “But in the interest of a quick sale, I will accept ten.”
“Six,” he snapped back.
I shook my head. “My client won’t be happy with anything less than nine.”
“Your client will be happy if the Russians don’t find him and connect his balls to a car battery. Final offer—seven million dollars.”
“I’m at nine, you’re at seven,” I said. “Let’s meet at eight million.”
“Let’s not. Seven million. Take it or leave it. Either way, the beer is on me.”
“You’re practically stealing them,” I said. “But I never had a problem with stealing. I’ll take it. Can we do the transfer tonight? You can pay me in euro banknotes. I don’t know what the equivalent of seven million American weighs, but at my age I don’t think I’ll be able to lift it.”
Actually I knew exactly what it weighed. Seven million in hundred-dollar bills would tip the scales at one hundred and fifty-four pounds—too much to carry at any age. The same amount in five-hundred-euro notes was only twenty-six pounds.
De Smet shrugged. Dollars, euros—he didn’t care. He was probably planning to hand over the money, take the diamonds, and then take the money back.
“Tonight is fine with me,” he said. “There’s a bar on Rembrandtplein where we can do business in total privacy.”
I shook my head. “It’s not only the buyer who must beware,” I said. “I’d rather go somewhere not so private. How about the two of us take a nice romantic moonlight dinner cruise along the canal. I’ll be on the boat that leaves the Prins Hendrikkade dock at seven-thirty. Bring the money. And come alone.”
“Of course,” he said. “You as well.”
“The cruise lasts two hours. When we get back to the dock, I will be at the front of the queue and get off first. You, my friend, will be at the very back of the line. By the time you will get off, I’ll be gone, and you won’t be tempted to follow me. Is that condition acceptable?”
“No problem,” de Smet answered. “All I want are the diamonds.”
Chapter 68
I STEPPED OUTSIDE the Café Karpershoek, and the two men who were watching me from the bar followed. The Ghost could have lost them in half a minute, but it wouldn’t have been smart for old Mr. Ziffer to shake them like a pro. I’d have to make them think they lost me.
I walked across the street to the cab stand at Centraal Station. I got into the first taxi and told the driver to take me to the InterContinental Amstel Hotel.
“Drive slowly,” I said. “I want to enjoy the view.”
De Smet’s boys caught the cab behind me and had no trouble keeping up.
I knew the Amstel well. I had stayed there the last time I had a job in Amsterdam. It’s a beautifully restored landmark building—a grand old palace that sits majestically in the heart of the city, overlooking the Amstel River. It’s the essence of Dutch charm, elegance, and efficiency.
The cab stopped at the entrance, and a burly uniformed doorman with a handlebar mustache opened the door. I recognized him immediately.
“Rutger,” I said as he helped me out of the taxi. “My favorite doorman. Do you remember me from last summer? Yitzchak Ziffer. You took excellent care of me. Good to see you again.”
I put a hundred-euro note in his hand, and his eyes popped. He had no idea who I was, but that didn’t slow him down.
“So excellent to see you again, Mr. Ziffer,” he said. “Welcome back. Do you have bags?”
“No, I checked in last night. But if it’s not too much trouble, I need one small favor.”
He slipped the money deftly into his pocket as he helped me to the red-carpeted stairs. “Mr. Ziffer, whatever you need.”
“As you know, I’m an author, and I’m here for another book signing,” I said. “But some of my fans are more like stalkers. Do you see those two men who just got out of that taxi?”
He looked discreetly over at de Smet’s men. “Yes, sir. Are they annoying you?”
“They mean well,” I said, “but sometimes this famous-author business can be exhausting. Could you just delay them at the door for a few seconds so I can get