“I don’t care if you are new. This is not your area, and now you have to pay. And you aren’t that new. I’ve seen you before.” His French took on a thicker Arabic accent in his anger. I swallowed hard, sweat dripping down my back as I watched.
At first I thought Kamal was going to kill the boy, but instead he did something much worse. He pointed the tip of his knife at the boy’s cheek, using his other forearm to hold the boy’s face against the wall as he started to carve. I closed my eyes and held back a scream. When I opened them, the hysterical boy had a bloody star carved into his cheek. My hand flew to my mouth. “Next time,” Kamal said in a scary whisper, I take your hand.” He let the boy slump down to the ground, cries of agony spilling from his mouth as he clutched his bleeding cheek. Kamal wiped the blood from his knife on the boy’s shirt and after spitting on the boy, turned back the way he’d come.
I jerked back, duck walking from behind the dumpster and hurrying around the corner. Sucking in a hard breath, I stood and took off. Something told me it was better if Kamal didn’t know I’d witnessed what he’d just done. I weaved through all the people on the sidewalks and retook my seat under the tree. I picked up Kamal’s Coke and put the lid on, surprised only a little had spilled. It was my luck that he took his time to get back, so I was able to catch my breath and calm down.
I sipped my lemonade and tried to erase the memory of what I’d seen. Kamal, whom I’d thought had a soft spot for runaways, had cut that boy in a vicious way that was certain to leave scars, and then threatened to maim him permanently. My body buzzed with disgust, and a shallow fear welled up in my chest. What I’d thought was a petty, nuisance crime was much darker and more terrible than I’d imagined.
When Kamal touched me on the shoulder, I startled, jerking around to see him standing above me.
“Jumpy?”
“You scared me. Where did you go? I’ve been worried.”
He sat down and picked up his soda, unscrewed the cap and took a drink. “There was a problem I needed to take care of. Nothing you have to worry about.” Strain registered on his face and the thumb of his other hand pressed on his chin while his index finger pressed on his temple.
“Well, you could have told me why you were leaving.” My face flushed, so I finished off my lemonade and leaned back against the tree, knees up and the empty lemonade bottle tapping on my knees, pretending I was relaxed.
“I didn’t know I would be leaving until I just did. And while you need to tell me about your whereabouts, I don’t have to account for mine.” He took a long drink of his soda and then twisted the top on.
We sat in awkward silence for a few minutes until his watch beeped. He immediately stood up and said, “Well, this is where I leave you. See you tomorrow. Upper entrance to the Louvre at nine.” The sun was low in the sky, light hitting harshly off store windows.
“That’s pretty late. Why not earlier?”
“The museum doesn’t open until then.”
“I think I like the thirty percent rate better than the ten percent rate. You could help me practice more before it’s all official. We could meet just a little early, at eight.”
“Wish I could, but I have somewhere to be at eight. An appointment.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.” My life of crime would officially begin at the glass pyramid of the Louvre.
I headed down the street to go home, but quickly changed my course once I knew Kamal was out of sight and not following me. It didn’t take me long to locate him. He was strolling home, in no hurry.
I followed him, making sure I wouldn’t be spotted, which wasn’t easy considering he knew what I looked like and I had no disguise with me. We passed a few blocks of small businesses that had apartments on top and continued into an area of apartments without businesses. At least he was walking on a street that had a bunch of nooks and crannies I could hide in. I had to count my blessings even though I had to hide every ten feet.
He entered a small apartment building at the end of a long row. The blue, peeling paint contrasted sharply with the red trim as well as the attached building which was olive green. The flaking paint left large patches of exposed tan stucco. A small alley dead-ended on the exposed side of the building. A light on the second story blinked on. Bingo. I knew where he lived. Tomorrow I’d be visiting his humble home, hopefully in the morning when he went to his appointment. I watched for a while, trying to determine if he lived with anyone else. It appeared he was the only one there.
I stewed the whole way home. Having the knowledge of where he lived and when he’d be gone was huge. I’d be in and out of that little apartment in under ten minutes and hopefully have the drive, but what if something went wrong? What I really needed was a shadow and some listening devices to put into his apartment. That way, if I wasn’t able to find the drive for some reason, I’d have a backup plan.
Once I was back in my apartment, I called Ace, hoping he was in a place where he could talk. The phone rang twice. Three times. A fourth. I almost hung up, but just when I was about to, I heard Ace’s gruff voice on the line.
“Ace here.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Listen, are you in
