And Thereby Hangs a Tale (10 page)

The only reason he'd ticked the little box marked
C of E was so he could escape from his cell for an hour every Sunday morning.
If he'd admitted he was a Jew, a Rabbi would have visited him in his cell once
a month, because not enough Jews end up in prison to hold a service for them.

The chaplain asked Benny to join him in the vestry.
'A friend has asked to see you, Benny.

I'll leave you alone for a few minutes.' He closed
the vestry door and returned to those repenting souls who did want to sign up
for his confirmation class.

'Good morning, Mr Matthews,' said Benny, taking
an unoffered seat opposite the detective inspector. 'I had no idea you'd taken
up holy orders.'

'Cut the crap, Friedman, or I may have to
let your wing officer know that you're really a Jew.'

'If you did, Inspector, I'd have to explain
to him how I'd seen the light on the way to Belmarsh.'

'And you'll see my boot up your backside if you
waste any more of my time.'

'So, to what do I owe this pleasure?' asked Benny
innocently.

'Has he sold the diamonds?' asked Matthews,
not wasting another word.

'No, Inspector, he hasn't. In fact, he
claims they're still in his possession. The
story about selling them for half a million was just a smokescreen.'

'I knew it,' said Matthews. 'He would never have
sold them for so little. Not after all the trouble he went to.' Benny didn't
comment.

'Have you managed to find out where he's stashed
them?'

'Not yet,' said Benny. 'I've got a feeling
that might take a little longer, unless you want me to...'

'Don't press him,' interrupted Matthews. 'It'll
only make him suspicious. Bide your time and wait for him to tell you himself.'

'And when I've elicited this vital piece of evidence,
Inspector, I'll get two years knocked off my sentence, as you promised?'

Benny reminded him.

'Don't push your luck, Friedman. I accept that
you've earned a year off, but you won't get the other year until you find out
where those diamonds are. So get back to your cell, and keep your ears
open and your mouth shut.'

It was on a Saturday morning that Bryant asked
Benny, 'Have you ever fenced any diamonds?'

Benny had waited weeks for Bryant to ask that
question. 'From time to time,' he said.

'I've got a reliable dealer in Amsterdam,
but I'd need to know a lot more before I'd be willing to contact him. What sort
of numbers are we talkin' about?'

'Is ten mill out of your league?' asked
Bryant.

'No, I wouldn't say that,' said Benny,
trying not to rise, 'but it might take a little longer than usual.'

'All I've got is time,' said Bryant,
slipping back into one of his long, contemplative silences. Benny prayed that
it wasn't going to be another six weeks before he asked the next question.

'What percentage would you pay me if I let you
fence the diamonds?' asked Bryant.

'My usual terms are twenty per cent of the face
value, strictly cash.'

'And how much do you sell them on for?'

'Usually around fifty per cent of face
value.'

'And how much will your contact make?'

'I've got no idea,' said Benny. 'He doesn't
ask me where it comes from, and I don't ask him how much he makes out of it. As
long as we all make a profit, the less anyone knows the better.'

'Does it matter what kind of stones they
are?'

'The smaller the
better,' said Benny. 'Always avoid the big stuff. If you brought me the Crown
Jewels, I'd tell you to fuck off, because I'd never find a buyer.

Small stones aren't easy to trace, you can lose
them on the open market.'

'So you'd cough up a couple of mill, if I deliver?'

'If they're worth ten million, yes, but I'd
need to see them first.'

'Why wouldn't they be?' asked Bryant,
looking Benny straight in the eye.

'Because figures reported in the press aren't
always reliable. Crime reporters like numbers with lots of noughts, and they
only ever round them up.'

'But they were insured for ten million,'
said Bryant, 'and don't forget the insurance company paid up in full.'

'I won't make an offer until I've seen the goods,'
said Benny.

Bryant fell silent again.

'So where are they?' asked Benny, trying to make
the words sound unrehearsed.

'It doesn't matter where they are,' said Bryant.

'It matters if you expect me to give you a valuation,'
snapped Benny.

'What if I could show you half a dozen of them
right now?'

'Stop pissing me about, Kev. If you're
serious about doin' a deal, tell me where they are. If not, fuck off.' Not
tactics Inspector Matthews would have approved of, but with his appeal coming
up in a few days' time, Benny couldn't afford to wait another six weeks before
Bryant spoke again.

'I'm serious,' said Bryant quietly. 'So shut
up and listen for a minute, unless you're doing a bigger deal this week?' Benny
thought about another year being knocked off his sentence and remained silent. 'While
I was banged up on remand, one of the cons was arrested for possession. Heroin,
class A.'

'So what?' said Benny. 'People get arrested for
possession every day.'

'Not while they're in prison, they don't.'

'But how did he get the gear in?' asked Benny,
suddenly taking an interest.

'This con picks up the stuff from a mate while
he's on trial at the Old Bailey. Durin' one of the breaks he asks to go to the
toilet, knowing that the guard has to stay outside while he's in the cubicle.
While he's on the john, he stuffs the gear into a condom, ties a knot in it and
swallows it.'

But if the condom
split open in his stomach,' said Benny, 'he'd be history.'

'Yeah, but if he gets it into prison, he can
make a grand. Five times what he'd pick up on the out.'

'Tell me something I don't know,' said Benny.

'Once he's banged up in here, he waits till
the middle of the night, sits on the toilet, where the screws can't see him
through the spy hole, and...'

'Spare me the details.'

After another long pause, Bryant said, 'On the
day I was sentenced I did the same thing.'

'You swallowed two ounces of heroin?' asked Benny
in disbelief.

'No, you stupid bugger, you've not been
payin' attention.' Benny remained silent while Bryant rolled a cigarette then
kept him waiting until he'd lit it and inhaled several times.

'I swallowed six of the diamonds, didn't I?'

'Why in Gawd's name would you do that?'

'Prison currency, in case I ever found
myself dealin' with a bent screw, or in need of a favour from an old lag.'

'So where are they now?' asked Benny,
pushing his luck.

'They've been in this cell for the past
three months, and you haven't even set eyes on them.'

Benny said nothing as Bryant climbed down from
the top bunk and took a plastic fork from the table. He slowly began to
unstitch the centre strip that ran down the side of his Adidas tracksuit
bottoms. It was some time before he was able to extract one small diamond.
Benny's eyes lit up when he saw it sparkle under the naked light bulb.

'Six stripes means six diamonds,' Bryant
said in triumph. 'If any screw checked my tracksuit, he would have found more
stashed in there than he earns in a year.'

Bryant handed the diamond over to Benny, who
took it across to the tiny barred window and studied it closely while he tried
to think.

'So, what do you think?' asked Bryant.

'Can't be sure yet, but there's one way to
find out. Let me see your watch.'

'Why?' asked Bryant, holding out his arm.

Benny didn't reply, but ran the edge of the stone
across the glass, leaving a thin scratch on the surface.

'Hey, what's your game?' said Bryant,
pulling his arm away. 'I paid good money for that watch. And I won't be
wasting good money on this piece of shit,' said Benny, handing the stone back
to Bryant before returning to the bottom bunk and pretending to read his newspaper.

'Why the fuck not?' asked Bryant.

'Because it's not a diamond,' said Benny. 'If
it was, it would have shattered the glass on your watch, not just left a
scratch on the surface. You've been robbed, my friend,' said Benny, 'and by a
very clever man who's palmed you off with paste.'

Bryant stared at his watch. It was some time
before he stammered out, 'But I saw Abbott fill the bag with diamonds from his
safe.'

'I've no doubt you saw him fill the bag with
something, Kevin, but whatever it was, it wasn't diamonds.'

Bryant collapsed on to the only chair in the
cell. Eventually he managed to ask, 'So how much are they worth?'

'Depends how many you've got.'

'A sugar bag full. It weighed about two pounds.'

Benny wrote down some numbers on the back of
his newspaper before offering his considered opinion. 'Two grand perhaps, three
at the most. I'm sorry to say, Kev, that Mr Abbott saw you coming.'

Bryant began picking at the remaining stripes
on his track-suit bottoms with the plastic fork. Each time a new stone fell
out, he rubbed it across his watch. The result was always the same: a faint
scratch, but the glass remained firmly intact.

'Twelve years for a few fuckin' grand,'
Bryant shouted as he paced up and down the tiny cell like a caged animal. 'If I
ever get my hands on that bastard Abbott, I'll tear him apart limb from limb.'

'Not for another twelve years you won't,'
said Benny helpfully.

Bryant began thumping the cell door with his
bare fists, but he knew that no one could hear him except Benny.

Benny didn't say another word until lights out
at ten o'clock, by which time Bryant had calmed down a little, and had even
stopped banging his head against the wall.

Benny had spent the time working out exactly
what he was going to say next. But not before he was convinced that Bryant was
at his most vulnerable, which was usually about an hour after lights out. 'I
think I know how you could get revenge on your friend Mr Abbott,' whispered
Benny, not sure if Bryant was still awake.

Bryant leapt off the top bunk and, towering over
Benny, their noses almost touching, shouted, 'Tell me. Tell me. I'll do
anything to get even with that bastard!'

'Well, if you don't want to wait twelve
years before you next bump into him, you've got it in your power to make him
come to you.'

'Stop talking in fuckin' riddles,' said
Bryant.

'How can I get Abbott to come to Belmarsh?

He's hardly likely to apply for a visiting order.'

'I was thinking of something more permanent
than a visit,' said Benny. It was Bryant's turn to wait impatiently for his
cellmate to continue. 'You told me the judge offered to reduce your sentence if
you told where you stashed the diamonds.'

'That's right. But have you forgotten they ain't
diamonds no more?' shouted Bryant, inching even closer towards him.

'Exactly my point,' said Benny, not
flinching, 'so it shouldn't take the police long to work out that they've been
taken for a ride, while Abbott has ended up with ten million of
insurance money in exchange for two pounds of paste.'

'You're fuckin' right,' said Bryant,
clenching his fist.

'As soon as the police realize the diamonds aren't
kosher, they're gonna throw the book at Abbott: fraud, theft, criminal
deception, not to mention perverting the course of justice. I wouldn't be
surprised if he was sent down for at least ten years.' Benny lit a cigarette
and slowly inhaled before he added, 'And there's only one place he's heading
once he leaves the Old Bailey.'

'Belmarsh!' said Bryant, punching his fist
in the air as if Manchester United had just won the Cup.

The physical instruction officer at Belmarsh
had never seen this particular con in the gym before, despite the fact
that he clearly needed some exercise, nor, for that matter, the police officer
he was deep in conversation with, who clearly didn't. The governor had told him
to lock the gym door and make sure that no one, screw or con, entered while the
two men were together.

'Bryant has made a full confession,' said Detective
Inspector Matthews, 'including where we'd find the diamonds. Half a dozen of
them were missing, of course. I presume there's no chance of retrieving them.'

'None,' said Benny with a sigh. 'It broke my
heart to watch him flushing them down the toilet. But, Inspector Matthews, I
was thinking of the bigger picture.'

'The one where you leave this place in a few
weeks' time?' suggested the detective inspector.

'I admit it had crossed my mind,' said
Benny.

'But I'm still curious to know what happened
to the rest of the diamonds?'