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“You think she’ll testify against Benny?” Pinky asked late Sunday afternoon.
The two old friends sat in the lower level of Jake's split-level home on matching black, leather reclining couches wearing their cozy slippers. The couches formed an L-shape forcing them each to nestle into the far end of their respective couches so they could both raise their footrests.
“Yup,” Jake assured him, curling his toes in his slippers. “First off, she’s really pissed at him. Second, she’ll do it to save her own neck. The D.A. said they won’t go after her for covering up the murder, moving the body, and filing a false report if she testifies.
“But there is one big problem,” Jake added.
Pinky shielded his eyes from the sun glaring through the half-closed, aluminum blinds above Jake’s couch on the back wall. “What’s the problem?” he asked.
“They can’t find him,” Jake explained. “Benny and his mom skipped after he left Rose. The landlord has no idea where they went. Neither does the Sopoynik Rebbe—I called him myself.”
“Didn’t you say they had tickets to Hong Kong?” Pinky asked. “Can’t the detectives find the flight they’re on, and get him at the gate?”
“That’s what I asked, Jake said. “They did find the flight. Problem is they canceled the tickets. They’re probably still gonna run, but there’s no telling where to, or how. I think it’ll be soon so we need to find Benny fast. Roberts says there’s a warrant for his arrest, but no manpower to search for him. But if we can locate him they’ll definitely pick him up.”
“We, kemosabe?” Pinky asked, holding his empty juice glass high.
“Okay,” Jake said.
He heard the springs creak as he lowered his footrest to get up.
He grabbed Pinky’s empty glass, and said, “Hold that thought.”
Jake strode across the beige, Berber carpet, climbed the short staircase, and went to the kitchen. He pulled a large bag of carrots from the fridge, and ran them through the high-end juicer he bought specifically to satisfy Pinky’s unquenchable thirst for carrot juice.
Jake could barely hear his own thoughts over the juicer’s high-powered motor.
He returned with Pinky’s juice. “I hope this works,” he said while handing the glass to Pinky.
“Huh?” Pinky responded. “You got an idea while you were up there?”
“Funny,” Jake said. “No. I hope this gets your juices flowing.”
Pinky was already gulping it down, and didn’t respond.
Jake returned to his couch, and fished around for the remote. “Let’s watch TV while we think of a way to locate Benny.”
He couldn’t find the remote, so he asked Pinky to check his couch.
“You need one of those trackers,” Pinky suggested. “I use them at home, and on my boat, for everything—remotes, keys, you name it.”
Pinky extracted his keys from his pocket, and pointed to a tiny disc stuck on his key fob. “See,” he said. “Just stick one of these babies on your remote, and use your phone to find it.”
“Good idea,” Jake said, then added, “No, that’s not a good idea—it's a great idea!”
“Whaddya mean?” Pinky asked while lowering his footrest, and pushing himself upright.
“Remember when you pranked me at the bakery?” Jake asked.
“Sure. What about it?” Pinky replied.
“Can you do that backwards?” Jake asked.
“Backwards?” Pinky replied.
“Ya,” Jake said. “Instead of taking something out of someone’s pocket can you slip something in without them knowing?”
“I guess so,” Pinky said. “Never tried to, but it sounds like the same basic move. How would that help?”
“Patience,” Jake said, holding up one hand. “One more question first. Do you have an extra tracker doodad like that one,” Jake asked pointing to the keys Pinky dropped on the couch beside him.
“Ya. I got some extras at the house,” Pinky replied. “Ohhh...I get it. You think if I put one of these on Benny we can track him, right?”
“Bingo!” Jake said, slapping his hands on his knees.
Pinky examined his empty glass, then said, “Well, I got bad news for ya. There’s two problems with your plan.” Pinky made a fist and flipped his thumb up. “First, these tags are only good for about 30 feet. It’s not like the spy movies.”
Jake thought about that, then replied, “Okay, I didn’t know that, but suppose we can get one like in the spy movies. What’s the second problem?”
“Think about it, genius,” Pinky said. “To put a tracker in Benny’s pocket we need to...” They finished that sentence in unison, “know where he is!”
“I think we can solve both of those problems,” Jake said. “The police must have those kinda spy trackers. Roberts can probably pull some strings, and get us one. To put one on Benny we just need to lure him out of hiding.”
“And howdya suggest we do that?” Pinky asked.
“I don’t—kemosabe, you do!” Jake announced. “You’re gonna kill two birds with one stone.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” Pinky moaned.
“Hear me out,” Jake pleaded. “Rose said Benny only sold one diamond. For the right cash price I bet he’d jump at the chance to sell them all. He knows what Reuven Grossman paid for one. Offering double that for the rest oughta do the trick. I’d make the offer myself, but I don’t think he’ll go for it. He knows I’m investigating Muttle’s death. He’ll suspect a trap. But there’s an even bigger reason.”
“What’s that?” Pinky asked.
“I don’t flaunt my money. Most people have no idea I’m wealthy. He’d never believe I could pay that kinda cash. We need someone the community knows is wealthy,” Jake said peering over imaginary reading glasses at Pinky.
“Who’s that?” Pinky asked.
Jake’s mouth hung open while he cocked one eye, as if beaming the obvious answer to Pinky, “Seriously?”
“Oh...” Pinky said. “You mean me.”
“Yes you!” Jake said. “Everyone sees your mansion and the cars. And now you even have a yacht! Benny won’t question your ability to pay.”
Pinky rubbed his forehead, tilted his near-empty carrot juice, and caught the single drop that trickled out.
“If we can lure him out we don’t need to put a tracker on him. Can’t we just tell the police where to be?” Pinky asked.
“The police won’t come out until we know for sure where he is. If we wait until he shows to call them, he could be long gone by the time they arrive,” Jake replied.
“Makes sense. But why would I wanna pay double?” Pinky asked. “I don’t care about the money, but why would Benny believe I want to pay double?”
“That’s the beauty of it,” Jake said. “Tell Benny they have huge sentimental value to the Weiss family. Tell him you’re Tuvia’s close friend, which is somewhat true, and you wanna buy them back as a gift.
“Benny’ll believe that.”