Free Cat on a Cold Tin Roof by Mike Resnick Page A

it.”
    â€œThere are reasons why no one knows,” I said.
    â€œOkay,” he said. “For the moment I’ll pretend we’re talking ten million bucks. How many hundreds of diamonds are we looking for?”
    I pointed to his leather watchband. “They’d all fit on that ,” I said.
    He frowned. “Do you know what you’re saying, Eli? You’re talking maybe ten diamonds the size of, I dunno, golf balls.”
    I shook my head. “They couldn’t be.”
    â€œI’m telling you . . .”
    I didn’t want to say that they’d be too obvious on the collar, or even that a cat was carrying them around. I already had one criminal helping me look for them; I didn’t need another.
    â€œHow about something the size of dimes?” I asked.
    He thought about it, then shook his head. “They’d be nice diamonds, but they sure as hell wouldn’t be worth no ten million.”
    â€œOkay,” I replied, unwilling to tell him anything more about the cat or the collar.
    â€œThat’s it?”
    â€œNot quite,” I said. “There’s one more thing.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œYeah,” I replied. “If they come in—dimes or golf balls—call me immediately.”
    â€œEli, I love you like a long-lost brother,” he said. “But I’m a businessman.”
    â€œZiggy, you’re a living businessman, and I want you to stay that way. These things are hotter than you can imagine.”
    â€œWho’s after them?”
    â€œBesides the owner?” I said. “I won’t give you any names, but there are three shooters from South America and an enforcer from Chicago, just for starters.”
    His eyes widened. “You’re not putting me on?”
    I shook my head.
    â€œWho else?” he asked.
    â€œThat’s one of the things I’m trying to find out.”
    â€œFour shooters?”
    â€œThree and one, right.”
    â€œIf I get my hands on ’em, I’ll just have to keep them on ice for a few years. They’ll be my retirement gift to myself.”
    â€œNot a chance, Ziggy,” I said. “These guys are all pros. They’ll be here, the enforcer and the hitters, in the next day or two, as soon as they get the lay of the land or beat it out of some snitches. And if they don’t find what they’re looking for, ten million isn’t the kind of thing that you shrug off and forget. They’ll be back every couple of days, and one or the other will pay someone to keep an eye on you and the shop.” I paused and stared at him. “You don’t want to try and hide these stones from those men.”
    Ziggy was almost shaking when I got done.
    â€œI’ll take it under advisement,” he said. “And thanks, Eli. You’ve always been a straight shooter with me. If I get them or hear of them, I’ll be in touch so fast I’ll feel like I’m back riding stakes horses at Keeneland again.”
    â€œZiggy, I love you like a brother, too,” I said. “But you never rode at Keeneland or anywhere else.”
    â€œWell, I should have,” said the little fence. “But I could never make weight.”
    â€œIt’ll be our secret,” I said, heading to the door.
    â€œYou going to the Goniff’s?” he said. “We’re rivals, but he’s gotta know about this too.”
    I nodded. “He’s next on my list.”
    Then I was out the door and walking back to my car. When I got there I found a parking ticket stuck under a wiper blade, tore it in half and deposited it in a nearby trash container like the good citizen I am, and headed a couple of miles west to Hegel the Goniff’s jewelry shop, which was advertising a ten-thousand-dollar pearl necklace in the window and was as reasonable a front for a fence as you could want. I told him the same thing I’d told Ziggy, and since he’d been roughed up a