| |
Early Friday afternoon, Jake parked outside Reuven Grossman’s Highland Park office. He pressed his hand against his pants pocket to make sure the ring was still there.
He originally only made the appointment to seek the diamond dealer’s help locating the diamonds that may have been hidden in the Torah. But when he opened his underwear drawer while dressing to leave, he saw the ring box.
He couldn’t propose to Mindy or even offer it as a gift.
Every time he opened that drawer, there it was—mocking him.
There was no point in keeping it, so he brought it along hoping to unload it.
He took the elevator to the second floor, and headed down a nicely decorated hallway noting the names of each business prominently displayed in their window.
Eventually he came to a door labeled 770.
No window—no business name.
But it was the suite number he was given.
He twisted the handle to open the door only to find it locked.
He looked up to locate the source of a whirring noise, and saw a security camera focus on him.
“Can I help you?” a woman’s muffled voice bellowed from an unseen speaker.
“Uhhh...ya.” he replied. “Jake Cooper here for Reuven Grossman.”
The door buzzed, and he instinctively pushed it open only to face an imposing steel interior door. He heard the exterior door’s lock click behind him.
He narrowly thwarted a claustrophobic attack by concentrating on the details of the door before him. It had a thick meshed wire glass window, and a transaction tray like the ones at gas stations and banks.
A bearded, short man wearing a yarmulke, black glasses, and a warm smile, approached the door, and asked him to produce a picture ID.
Jake slid his driver’s license through the transaction tray, and watched as the man held it up, and looked back at Jake’s face approvingly. He took a picture of Jake’s ID with his cell phone, then buzzed the door open.
“Sorry about that,” the man said, “We Gotta be extra careful.”
He pressed his fingers to his chest, and said, “I’m Reuven Grossman. Come, let’s sit.”
Jake followed him into a tiny office with blackout shades on the window behind a small glass and chrome desk.
Reuven seated himself in an overstuffed white leather executive chair while offering Jake a seat across from him.
“How can I help you,” Reuven asked.
“I’m hoping you can help me with a few things. First, I’d like to sell this engagement ring,” Jake said while twisting in his seat to free the box from his pants pocket. “I bought it a long time ago to give to someone who refused it too many times. I’d like to sell it.”
Reuven removed his glasses, and gently set them on the desk. He wiped the stone with a little cloth, then pulled a jeweler’s loupe from his desk drawer.
He flipped the loupe open one-handed, and made several grunting sounds as he examined the large pear-shaped diamond.
“Nice!” Reuven said. “I’d be very interested. It’s quite remarkable. Are you sure you don’t want it?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Jake replied.
“I’ll need to weigh it to make an offer. Do you mind if I remove it from the setting?”
“Knock yourself out,” Jake said. “I just want to be rid of it.”
Jake watched Reuven meticulously spread a black cloth on the desk. He used tiny pliers to gently pull back the setting’s prongs until the shimmering stone dropped onto the black cloth.
He used a plastic medicine cup to scoop up the stone, and deposited it on an electronic scale housed in a glass box. He slid the box’s glass door shut. “Three point four carats,” he announced.
He wrote an offer on a little notepad, and slid it over to Jake. It was slightly less than his cousin estimated he should get for it.
“If that’s acceptable I can pay cash now,” Reuven said. “But I don’t deal in precious metals. You’ll have to sell the setting somewhere else.”
They shook on the deal.
Reuven spun his chair around blocking Jake’s view while he opened a small safe, and counted out the cash. Reuven then placed a tiny sheet of blue diamond paper on the desk, and made a notation with a pencil in one corner. He folded the diamond into the paper forming a little packet, and slipped it into a small metal box with dozens of similar packets.
“What else can I help you with?” Reuven asked.
Jake recounted the story of the loose Torah handle.
“He was a diamond dealer in Europe, and told his family he had money they could live on in America. He died mid-voyage. The family never found any money—just the Torah.” Jake said. “I found a hidden compartment in it, and then heard the family’s story. I think he hid diamonds in that Torah, but never told anyone. It’s empty now, and the handle is very loose. I bet someone discovered them, and took them to make some fast cash thinking nobody would be the wiser.”
“Wow,” Reuven said. “This is so odd.”
“What is?” Jaked asked.
“Well...first off, you’re the second person I met today wanting to sell an engagement stone because his proposal was rejected.”
“Really? Who was it?” Jake asked.
“Benny Chinsky,” Reuven replied.
“Benny?” Jake exclaimed.
“You seem surprised,” Reuven said. “You know him?”
“Sort of,” Jake replied. “I don’t know him well.”
“There’s more,” Reuven said. “As coincidental as that might be, it’s not the strangest part.”
“Oh? Do tell,” Jake said.
“He brought me a loose stone. Kinda odd if it was from an engagement ring he proposed with. But after I bought that one stone he asked if I’d be interested in buying more just like it.”