2
The emptiness of the shop was a relief after the heaving crowds outside. Ajax’s eyes scanned the room, missing nothing; one cashier, two salesmen, one supervisor, three shoppers, two (visible) cameras, the cabinet holding the most expensive diamonds and the key slot used to close the shutter. The most important detail of all was currently missing, which would mean they would to delay the whole operation.
The pair pretended to browse the ring selection. Ajax nudged Pythias and whispered, “We can’t wait long – supervisor’s already watching us.”
The black clothing and the bags no doubt arouse the suspicion of the supervisor conveniently stood behind the counter, his gaze in their direction. Pythias continued to look at the rings. “Just calm down. The instructions were very clear. I think we’re a few minutes early, anyway, old man.”
One of the salesmen, no doubt on the surreptitious orders of the watchful supervisor, stepped up and gulped. He was a man smelling strongly of cologne, his spindly figure looking odd next to the bulky Pythias and Ajax.
“Can I be of any assistance, gentleman?” the salesman asked.
Ajax was about to say no, but Pythias stepped forward and interrupted him before he had the opportunity. “Well, I’m not sure. I’m looking for an engagement ring for my fiancé, but I’m not really sure what would be the best choice.”
The man looked delighted and shone a white-teeth grin. “I guess you’ve already seen we have a very wide selection, sir. Do you know what kind you were aiming for? Gold? Silver? Diamond?”
“Well,” Pythias said slowly, as if he were deliberating. “She wears a lot of silvery jewellery, and I know she simply loves diamonds.”
The salesman clapped his hands together. “Then either the white gold, silver or platinum would be best for you, in our diamond collection. Obviously there’s a huge gulf in the price ranges between the different materials, would you mind me asking if you had a budget consideration? We try to cater for every customer.”
Pythias turned and looked over the display case, taking in the prices. “She’s a special girl. Platinum is the only thing for her.”
The salesman kept his smile; this was his big sale, this was the moment when he would prove his potential to the manager. “Our cheapest platinum diamond rings start at around three hundred drachmae. They go up quite rapidly from there, depending on the size and quality of the diamond you’re looking for, sir.”
Pythias knew he had to buy some time, get the man away so he could converse with Ajax in secret. He paused and collected his thoughts. “Do you have any information about the diamonds? I’m not exactly an expert, you see.”
“That’s what I’m here for, sir,” the salesman answered, crisply and with enthusiasm.
“Is there anything I could possibly read?” Pythias said. “Just a quick fact sheet, or something, you know the thing.”
The salesman looked blank. “I’m sure I can find something in the back,” he said anyway, in the customary way. He held his hands behind his back and walked quickly, but not too quickly, towards the counter.
Ajax grunted. He grabbed Pythias’s arm and pulled him out of earshot of anyone, in the front corner of the shop. A red-faced middle-aged man brushed past them. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?” Ajax asked.
“Playing for time,” Pythias said. “We gotta pretend to be real customers. You know the drill. Keep this salesman busy, fend off the supervisor. Then when the package arrives, we can start the real business.”
“Whatever,” Ajax murmured. “I just want this over with.”
Ajax glanced over his shoulder to the counter, where the salesman was muttering something inaudible to the supervisor while the young, female cashier listened eagerly. The exchange was brief and the supervisor grabbed something from beneath the desk and thrust it into the salesman’s hand, before whispering something else.
The over-perfumed salesman returned triumphantly. “Here you go, sir,” he said with his trademark grin. “Everything you’d ever need to know. Hope that helps.”
“Thanks,” Pythias said, flicking his hair back. “I think I’ll just read this and browse the selection, if you wouldn’t mind?” The message was clear: we want to be alone. The salesman’s eagerness was swept away in an instant, but he stuck to his politeness and nodded curtly before walking away. In his head the sale was almost lost, the manager’s praise slipping away.
Ajax looked at his watch. “What’s taking so long?”
Pythias shrugged, fingering the necklace he wore. It had numerous bronze snakes coiled around one another, spitting and hissing. It unnerved Ajax, but the trinket was of some significance to his young partner.
“I need a smoke,” Pythias said, and slipped out through the door. He lit up and Ajax watched the smoke drift up, before turning back to make sure he’d missed nothing from the shop. Two of the customers had left, which made things all the easier. Only the flustered man was left, babbling to the older salesman about money troubles, constantly rubbing his hand through his greasy hair.
One of the lights on the ceiling flickered. It made a cracking sound, flickered once more, before going black. The supervisor at the counter swore, moved out and looked up at the broken bulb. “Bastard thing,” he said, before looking at Ajax. “It always goes off, no matter what bulb we put in. Pain in the backside if you ask me.”
Ajax felt like he needed to say something. It was almost a test. The supervisor was adjudicating whether he was human enough or not to be a shopper, whether a careless conversation could be taken up. Ajax knew, instantly, that a taciturn approach would simply reinforce the suspicion, and that only by talking in the style of Pythias could he pass. His mind was empty of replies, though; he was not used to this. That’s what he had the kid for. “Have you had the electrician in?” Ajax asked, a little late.
“Yeah, not that he’s much bloody use,” the supervisor replied, squinting (even with his glasses on) up at the dead light. “I usually have to drag out the stepladder myself and slip a new one in, even though it’ll break by tomorrow, I bet.”
Ajax made a noise of agreement deep in his throat. “I bet.”
“I was wondering when he’d get here,” the supervisor suddenly said.
“Who?”
“That boy,” he explained, nodding toward the door, which was opening. “Comes in every day, never buys anything,” he added, but Ajax didn’t hear.
All his senses were locked onto the small, weedy figure of a boy with a smile that seemed too happy, closing the door and gazing open-mouthed at the shiny delights on show. Behind, Pythias had dropped his cigarette, half-finished.
Ajax didn’t need to look at his watch to know it was time.
