The pawnbroker shrugged. “It’s my business to understand. You wouldn’t believe the hard-luck stories I hear.”
“I’ll redeem it in a few days. I’m starting a new job Monday. Meanwhile, I need to get as much cash as I can for it.”
The pawnbroker was looking at the watch more closely. On the back of the case, some writing had been scratched off. He looked at the customer. “If you’ll excuse me a minute, I’ll take a look at the movement. Sometimes these watches are made in Bangkok, and they forget to put anything inside.”
He took the watch into the back room. He put a loupe to his eye and studied the scratch marks. He could faintly make out the letters “T Phi p wi h L v fro L ra.” The old man opened a drawer and took out a police flyer. It had a description of the watch and the engraving on the back, “To Philip with Love from Lara.” He started to pick up the telephone when the customer yelled, “Hey, I’m in a hurry. Do you want the watch or don’t you?”
“I’m coming,” the pawnbroker said. He walked back into the next room. “I can loan you five hundred dollars on it.”
“Five hundred? This watch is worth…”
“Take it or leave it.”
“All right,” Shaw said grudgingly. “I’ll take it.”
“You’ll have to fill out this form,” the pawnbroker said. “Sure.” He wrote down John Jones, 21 Hunt Street. As far as he knew, there was no Hunt Street in Chicago, and he sure as hell was not John Jones. He pocketed the cash. “Much obliged. I’ll be back in a few days for it.”
“Right.”
The pawnbroker picked up the telephone and made a call.
A detective arrived at the pawnshop twenty minutes later.
“Why didn’t you call while he was here?” he demanded.
“I tried. He was in a hurry, and he was jumpy.”
The detective studied the form the customer had filled out.
“That won’t do you no good,” the pawnbroker said. “It’s probably a false name and address.”
The detective grunted. “No kidding. Did he fill this out himself?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll nail him.”
At police headquarters it took the computer less than three minutes to identify the thumbprint on the form. Jesse Shaw.
The butler came into the drawing room. “Excuse me, Mr. Adler, there’s a gentleman on the telephone for you. A Lieutenant Mancini. Shall I…?”
“I’ll take it.” Philip picked up the telephone. “Hello?”
“Philip Adler?”
“Yes…?”
“This is Lieutenant Mancini. I came to see you in the hospital.”
“I remember.”
“I wanted to bring you up-to-date on what’s happening. We had a bit of luck. I told you that our chief was going to send out flyers to pawnshops with a description of your watch?”
“Yes.”
“They found it. The watch was pawned in Chicago. They’re tracking down the person who pawned it. You did say that you could identify your assailant, didn’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“Good. We’ll be in touch.”
Jerry Townsend came into Lara’s office. He was excited. “I’ve worked out the party list we talked about. The more I think about the idea, the better I like it. We’ll celebrate your fortieth birthday on the day the tallest skyscraper in the world opens.” He handed Lara the list. “I’ve included the Vice President. He’s a big admirer of yours.”
Lara scanned it. It read like a who’s who from Washington, Hollywood, New York, and London. There were government officials, motion picture celebrities, rock stars…It was impressive.
“I like it,” Lara said. “Let’s go with it.”
Townsend put the list in his pocket. “Right. I’ll have the invitations printed up and sent out. I’ve already called Carlos and told him to reserve the Grand Ballroom and arrange your favorite menu. We’re setting up for two hundred people. We can always add or subtract a few if we have to. By the way, is there any more news on the Reno situation?”
Lara had talked to Terry Hill that morning. “A grand jury is investigating, Lara. There’s a possibility that they’ll hand down a criminal indictment.”
“How can they? The fact that I had some conversations with Paul Martin doesn’t prove anything. We could have been talking about the state of the world, or his ulcers, or a dozen other damned things.”