Gemscentric

Written by Julian Robov


Forty Five


The restaurant of Somphon Chan was a place where anything could go wrong. It was situated off Silom Road, in a dirty soi. The food never arrived in time. If it did, it was always the wrong food. If one decided to eat, the bill was always incorrect. If that wasn’t enough, someone always got killed for the right or the wrong reason behind the closed doors. The fact was no one complained. In fact, they had several secret doors, because of the police and rival gangs, and only a few had the balls to do business, if and when such an occasion arose. Yet a few gem dealers loved to meet their friends and exchange their girls, either for gemstones or sex.

Jeffrey was one among them. He was busy with Robert discussing new business prospects, as the tourist arrivals at the Don Muang International Airport meant more victims and, of course, more business behind closed doors. As usual, he had perfected his skill in mixing and matching natural blue sapphires with synthetic flame-fusion and flux sapphires. In addition to that his specialty in fooling even the experts—with surface diffusion-treated sapphires and induced fingerprints—indicated he was way ahead of the so-called graduate gemologists from around the world. He welcomed those experts with polite fascination. Deep down in his gut he knew George wouldn’t have the balls to identify the blue gemstones he had sold for close to a million dollars—big size stones with good color, clarity and cut. They were a mixture of surface diffusion-treated flame-fusion blue sapphires, and synthetic flame-fusion blue sapphires, with induced fingerprints. The parcels he sold were the best mixed ones—with some heat-treated blue sapphires—to look very similar.

Infinitely patient and watchful, he was trading a few girls from mainland China— natural and virgin—for a few blue sapphires, as the Chinese speaking brokers left the restaurant through one of the secret exit doors. He felt no personal sense of threat, because it was perceived he was well protected by the political establishment. Somphon watched, standing behind the bar, while George glanced at the guests— like a chicken inspecting furniture and, of course, the front door. Some of them decided to leave quickly. An impression was gradually taking shape, as George pulled up a chair beside the window. He was himself again, focused and businesslike.
“Bad day, I guess, uh?” Somphon said, broadening his smile. George merely nodded, offering no comment.
Somphon had the feeling that he was talking to himself getting weary of the conversation.
A few moments later, George gave a quizzical look.
“Have you seen Jeffrey lately? I mean, how is his business?”
“Business? That’s what they do all the time,” Somphon said a bit defensive.
“Do you think he will be coming today?” George asked.
“You never know,” Somphon answered.
George stared up at the gem portrait hanging on the wall. It was a big one embedded with different colored gemstones with Chinese characters. He studied their colors for a moment, and then turned back to the beer. He looked up again at the portrait, blinked, startled by the reflection, looked away. Somphon had been watching George, and then his eyes shifted back to the wall.
“They’re all imitations. Glass! A gift from Jeffrey,” Somphon said hesitantly.
“Wow! Gimme one more Singha beer!”
There was a discreet rap at the door.
“Mr George! Surprise, surprise.” After seating himself, Jeffrey waved at Somphon for two Singha beer. “So what’s up?”
“Let’s do some business,” George said.
“Right here? You mean stones?” Jeffrey asked surprisingly. Something was not right.
“That’s right. I’m leaving for New York shortly,” George reminded him, sipping beer.
“That’s good,” Jeffrey continued. “If you need more stones, you know where to contact me.
The economy is really fucking good, and I hear there is a shortage of good quality blue sapphires.”
There was a deceptive silence. It was now show time. George then fished out a parcel of blue stones from his jacket and placed them on the desk. Then he lit a Marlboro and sat back staring at Jeffrey.
“What’s up, George? I don’t understand,” Jeffrey said, staring at the parcel. He recognized them immediately.
“Don’t fuck me, Jeffrey,” George continued. “I know the difference between a genuine blue sapphire and their imitations. I trusted your word, and my girl tells me they are all mixed synthetic and treated blue sapphires coated with some fucking colors to look natural.”
“Which girl? What are you talking about?” Jeffrey asked.
“You don’t need to know,” George said.
Jeffrey knew too well he was in a hot spot. Somphon was nowhere to be seen. He fled the scene knowing the situation.
“I think we need to talk,” Jeffrey reminded him.
“Give me the money, and we’ll call it a day,” George insisted.
“Sure. If you want, you’ll have to wait.” Jeffrey tossed the gemstone parcel at George angrily. His hands flew swiftly to catch it, but then he knew it was a game. Jeffrey’s hand snaked inside his jacket. George looked up at Jeffrey one more time. Jeffrey grinned first and then pulled the trigger.
Immediately, George ducked under the table breaking the beer bottle. Several droplets of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
“You’re making a mistake,” George shouted.
Then came the final shot. “YOU ARE DEAD!”
Carly, standing behind a secret exit door shot Jeffrey in the head eight times, each shot delivered coldly and precisely, very businesslike in fact, with the same total lack of emotion that Jeffrey had shown when she had been bought and abused. His knees buckled and then slumped forward on his face. It was pay back time.