Chapter 11
Izzie Kesselmann was a German Gypsy who had come to the U.S. at the outbreak of World War II. When Hitler had made thievery all but impossible in Europe, he came to the States as a young boy and learned how to steal as well in a city as he had out in the country. When the war ended, Izzie became friendly with certain members of his former tribe in the old country, and they formed a diamond-smuggling ring.
Izzie was short, about five-feet-six, with curly black hair, a tiny black mustache, and a razor-sharp face that would have looked even uglier without the mustache. He was trim, slender, not exactly muscular, but not flabby, either. Izzie liked to boast to Susan about the young women he had laid. What he didn't tell her was that they were all as ugly as sin.
Susan became acquainted with Izzie ten years earlier, when she had been in one of Europe's more posh gambling casinos and had lost her last penny. She had bumped into Izzie, who, seeing she was distressed, offered her enough money to get home for absolutely nothing in return. Overjoyed, she had accepted the offer, only to discover Izzie had smuggled some diamonds into the States inside her suitcases. Had Customs looked through her suitcases, she would have been caught and sent to prison.
Susan, thinking she saw a good thing, rather than getting angry, insisted Izzie allow her to continue smuggling the diamonds in for him, but at a percentage of the profits. To Izzie, it was well worth it, since he was now taking no risk whatsoever. So he paid Susan twenty percent of whatever he received for her to take all the risks. As a result, Susan became well-known to every diamond smuggler in Europe, and all of them, in addition to Izzie, were constantly on the make for her. So far, none had succeeded.
Izzie had books of maps, letting him know where every city, town and village in every state existed, and he had no trouble finding Quilton, which was only forty-five minutes away from the big city in spite of Susan's belief that it was in the wilderness.
He had an old Ford and drove up to Quilton so that before an hour had gone by, Susan saw him driving down the street. He parked, she got into his car, and he drove out of the village. Then he parked again, this time in a small niche covered by bushes, and he asked her why she was there.
"I was kidnaped," Susan told him. "My stockbroker dragged me up here and did all kinds of abominable things to me."
"Veil," Izzie told her. "Dis is der time to take advantage uff him. If der man is insistent on doing dese t'ings to you, der next time, I take pictures, undt den ve blackmail him undt make anudder fortune."
Blackmail! ! ! Yes, Izzie's mind would run to something like that. Hell! She didn't want to blackmail the man. She just wanted to get away from him.
"Izzie, you take me away from here," she insisted.
He looked at her for a moment, smiled, then started the car, and began driving. Susan began calming down, but only for a moment. Less than five minutes later, he was pulling into a motel parking area, and before she was able to say anything, he had hurried inside and had registered. When he came out, he got into the car and parked it behind the motel, in front of the unit where he would be staying.
"I haff a camera," he told her. "Undt you vill let him fuck you again so I can take pictures."
"No." Susan insisted.