Gemsicuted

Written by Julian Robov


Eighteen


The past two days were busy. Sanders looked happy. A lot of rubies of various qualities kept coming to his office from legal and illegal sources. He cared less as long as they were real. The brokers knew his taste and kept feeding him with the type of goods he could sell so that they could get their CUT (commission). Army generals and retired geologists disguised as tourists and academics loved to stop by his office.

Some had swallowed or concealed both, rough and cut gems, throughout their torturous journey from the mountains, while others managed to smuggle hoarding them in their anus, penis, ears, mouth, or in a doctored wound. They loved this job for one reason. MONEY, MONEY, MONEY!

They had the type of rubies Sanders could sell well to the rich and famous socialites in Hong Kong, Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore, his traditional market. The Vietnamese merchants too had a similar way of taking rubies out of their country to make a good profit. He loved listening to their tales, and in the end the couriers got their CUT (commission). His partner, Jeb Singthowala, made it all easy for the contacts to get those hard to find rubies to Bangkok. Both had developed a relationship portraying themselves as the kids of the block. Cambodia was another treasure-trove for everyone. Khmer merchants kept bringing them to the Thai border town of Bo Rai for Jeb to pick them up. They also became their trusted bankers. A rare privilege! But now to their surprise a new source became available. JEGDALEK (Afghanistan)!

A broker brought in to Sanders’s office a few Afghani men in their rugged clothes who had something to sell. RUBIES! They took a few parcels of rough rubies from their cloth bag to show Sanders. The quality really did surprise him. All the rough rubies were embedded in their matrix. They were heavily fractured, and INCLUDED (internal characteristics), but the color was fair to good. It reminded him of the rubies from Mogok. After cutting, he knew the color would be gone. They babbled in Persian, which he couldn’t understand. But the interpreter, Nawaz Hussain, a Pakistani geologist, made the whole conversation easier to grasp. He had come to Sanders’s office anticipating an advance payment of several thousand dollars so that these tribesmen could return and convince their elders to make available all future rubies mined from Jegdalek for him. Sanders had never exercised such gestures to anyone before. But they seemed confident that he was their right savior.

Sanders took Nawaz to Jeb’s room to show the type of rubies he sold to the outside market. As he spread the rough and cut rubies on the table for Hussain to view, Sanders saw the excitement in Hussain’s eyes. He had never seen such qualities before, and they were so red and well cut. He was speechless. He had nothing to say other than gaze at Sanders in appreciation. Now he realized the junk quality they were carrying all the way from the mountains of Aghanistan to Bangkok.

He returned to the tribesmen and explained the quality he had just seen versus their rubies. The stone-faced tribesmen became angry getting into a verbal warfare. Sanders knew the outcome. Nawaz apologized to Sanders for wasting his time and promised never again to return to his office with these rough-looking tribesmen.

Another day, more experience. Before Sanders could relax in his chair, Bobby, his assistant reminded Sanders that there was another visitor for him. All the rubies left on the table for grading were quickly deposited in a hidden safe beneath the table, before the visitor was allowed into his office.

After a brief introduction, Sanders motioned Pierre Themiro to take his seat.
“And your business?” he asked.
“Gems! Rubies, always big ones,” Themiro replied.
“Well at the moment, we don’t have big ones, but if you can leave me your contact telephone number, maybe I could help you with that. You didn’t mention how big, if I may ask?” Sanders asked. A usual practice to check their background.
“You have a nice office out here. Do you work here alone?” Themiro remarked.
“No. I’ve my partners. They should be back here any moment. Who recommended you to come to our office?” Sanders asked.
“Some friends out in the trade,” Themiro added. “You are the specialist in this street. Do you have any big rubies to show me now?”
“I’m afraid not. They don’t sit here all the time, you know.” But the reply didn’t convince Themiro.
“But I’ve the information that you have the stone I’m looking for,” Themiro said.
“That must be misinformation,” Sanders commented.
“Nope. My information is always correct,” Themiro argued.
“Well, in this case, I’ll have to tell you, you are wrong,” Sanders said impatiently.
“Why are you hiding the stone from me, Mr Sanders?” Themiro asked.
“Who is hiding whose stone here, uh? Who are you? I don’t like people coming to my office telling me what to do, understand? When I say I don’t have stones to show, then that’s it,” Sanders replied angrily.
“You are overreacting, Mr Sanders. We know you have the stone, and you are afraid of showing it to me. Why? I’m a businessman like anyone else in this city. Why are you angry with me?” Themiro reasoned.
“I ain’t angry with anyone, but your methodical probing is making me sick and tired. I’ll have to leave this office in a few minutes. As I said, you can leave me your contact phone number. If it is available, then I might contact you,” Sanders said trying to cool him down.
“No. You’re not leaving this office, till you show me the ruby,” Themiro reminded.
“Who the fuck are you to tell me that I can’t leave my office?” Sanders couldn’t control him any more.
“You aren’t polite, Mr Sanders. You are refusing to show the ruby for some reason I know,” Themiro said, playing his game.
“What are you up to? You come to my office like a walk-in, and declare that I’m hoarding your fucking ruby. What’s this, some kind of hocus-pocus? You have to leave my office immediately,” Sanders ordered.
Themiro slipped his hairy hand swiftly into his jacket and took out his gun, and pointed it directly at Sanders with no smile on his face.
“This is no hocus-pocus. It’s real, Mr Sanders. You can’t have both at the same time. Either you show me the ruby or the bullet will go straight into your thickskinned head.” He looked at Sanders, straight into his eyes with his right finger on the trigger.
“Hey, hey, take it cool and easy. Are you nuts?” Sanders became instantly oxidized and pleaded with his raised hands, as his brain now started to realize the consequence if he didn’t act sensibly.
“What happened to your face, Mr Sanders?” Themiro asked sarcastically.
“What’s wrong with my face?” Sanders quipped.
“It turned gray, no blood in your face. Are you sick or weak?” The joke began to hurt him deeply.
“You will look the same if I point a gun to your brain, understand? It’s a thermal reaction,” Sanders replied, keeping his humor and hot temper under control.
“You can put your hands down and talk to me like a man. Listen, I know too well that you know, Miko and Tito, and the 37carat ruby!” Themiro became serious.
“You bugged the conversation. This is illegal and unforgivable. If you bugged the conversation then your bugging machine is as shitty like my shit. Fucking useless, understand? Tell me Rambo who are you? What’s your real name? What’s your cover?” Sanders became bold and serious. He couldn’t believe how he got the courage to ask such question when he knew he was in danger.
“You are rude, Mr Sanders. I don’t shit on anybody. I do only business. You have the ruby, and I want to buy. That’s all,” Themiro said firmly.
“If you want to buy, why are you pointing your fucking gun at me? There is a civilized way to do business like anywhereelse,” Sanders answered, confused.
“Okay. I put my gun back in my jacket as you say. We sit and talk about rubies, right?” Themiro said.
Sanders pulled up a chair and sat across the table, face to face. He looked now more relaxed from the tense moment a few minutes ago.
“Let’s talk. First, what’s your real name, Themiro? A real businessman doesn’t do business with ghosts. You understand that, don’t you?” Sanders reminded him.
“Grigory Troublov!” At last he spoke the truth.
“So you are Russian, not french. What are you doing here in Bangkok? Do you really do business in rubies or are you working for someone? Now are you here alone or is someone waiting outside to burst in at your command to blow up this place? You know in this country it is illegal to trespass other’s property.” Sanders warned.
“I don’t want to hear all your bullshit. My people are waiting outside to see the ruby. You have it or not? No more talking,” Troublov said angrily.
“Hey, in this country people don’t do business with strangers. How can you act like this, Troublov? You don’t have the money, and then you want to see the ruby. What kind of a businessman are you? Is this how you do business in your country?” Sanders asked.
“I’ll shoot your brain if you continue talking like that to me,” Troublov said impatiently.
“What will happen if I say I don’t have the rubies? Now listen, you said you heard my conversation with Tito and Miko. Where are they? They own the ruby. You must be shooting them, not me,” Sanders said plainly
“They have the ruby? Are you telling the truth?” Troublov asked, shockingly.
“Hey, I want to see the ruby too, just like you,” Sanders quipped.
“So you don’t have the ruby?” Troublov asked in disbelief.
“Do you make a living threatening the people in this country?” Sanders said repeatedly.
“Mr Sanders, you are talking too much. If you play any games with me, next time when we meet, no talking, just business, the gun talks. I’m leaving now, but I’ll come back when…….” Troublov glanced at Sanders sternly, as he walked out of the door.
Sanders collapsed in his chair like a folded leaf. He was too scared and weak to go anywhereelse or even call his staff, but he had to somehow convince Tito and Miko how dangerous the situation had turned to their disadvantage. He had to somehow save their lives from these goons. He sat in his chair orbiting with his mind thinking of all possibilities. Never in his life had he been so scared of death like the one he had just managed to survive. Themiro could have pulled the trigger in a split-second splashing his brain into porridge. He got the chill out of hell with the repeated thought of pleading like a child in front of a psychopath and his gun who had only one focused goal, the 37carat ruby, and perhaps, more rubies. Then he remembered why he forgot to act.

Sanders looked under his table for the secret switch, a heavy dose of mace secretly installed on both sides of the wall. He just forgot to switch ‘on’. He even forgot to use an assortment of stun guns carefully hidden under his gemstone-grading table. He hit his head several times on the table cursing at his stupidity.