Stolen History

or, a Cai Williams Short Story

The Manhattan penthouse was a study in “money can’t buy class”, as far as Cai was concerned. She moved through the cocktail party, untouched drink in hand, held between her delicate fingers. Her soft, green eyes scanned the room expertly, taking in its dimensions, entrances and exits, and layout. She smiled and nodded to anyone who met her gaze and then moved on. She wasn’t here for them.

Stepping to the floor-to-ceiling window, she looked out and down. Central Park. The Onassis Lake and the pathways shimmering with lights. Eighty-four floors down, in the twilight of the New York Spring, people didn’t even exist. She pressed a hand to the glass and leaned in, looking even further down to the street below.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The voice was deep and soft with a hint of British aristocracy to it. Cai turned to face the speaker, a handsome, dark-skinned man in a well-tailored tuxedo. “The press likes to call it ‘Billionaire’s Row’. We don’t dissuade them from that.” He really thought he was clever and charming. Cai smiled. She was feeling even better about this job now. She offered her hand.

“Cai WIlliams. You must be Mr. Fawaz.”

He smiled. Men like him always did when a pretty woman said their name. “Please, call me Ahmad.” He took her hand and bowed slightly, brushing his lips to the back of her fingertips. Would you do me the honor of giving you the tour of the penthouse? This is only one of the spectacular views.”

“I would be delighted,” she lied.

Ahmad took her arm and motioned for one of the serving staff. The older, Middle Eastern man wordlessly brought a silver tray of champagne glasses, and Ahmad took one and offered it to her.

“Oh, I’m still working on this one, but thank you.”

He nodded and dismissed the servant with his head. “So as you may know, this is the tallest residential building in not just Manhattan, but the entire hemisphere.” He led her around the room along the windows. “My family bought this penthouse when it was first built, and it has remained in the family. I’m the only one that actually spends any time here, however.”

“Where are the rest of them?” Cai pretended to be interested as she continued to survey the room. Ahmad continued talking, rattling off family members and property values and other real estate. Cai nodded and gave the appropriate ‘ooh’ when called for. All the while, she made mental notes of the book cases and displays of artwork. Pottery and artifacts. Millions of dollars worth, Billions, probably. And then finally she saw it. Ahmad noticed her interest.

“Ah, yes. One of my prized possessions. I bought that one myself.” He led her over to the display case. It was no larger than a football, and as far as Cai was concerned, looked like a huge dildo. Which wasn’t surprising. The Golden Linga of Mỹ Sơn was a symbolic representation of Lord Shiva, and most of its kind were phallic in shape. She could not help but giggle a little. Ahmad misinterpreted the sound and slid his arm around her waist. She deftly removed herself from him and stepped closer to the case.

“Where did you get it,” she asked, although she knew the truth.

“At an auction. I love that shit. All the kama sutra stuff, sexy statues and painting. Those Hindus knew how to get freaky.” He really was just a frat bro under the fancy suit. “You wanna see the rest of my collection? I keep most of them upstairs”. His face was greedy and lascivious.

Cai feigned looking at her watch. “Oh, I really have to go! I didn’t realize it was so late!” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, surprising him. “Rain check? I’ll definitely be back.” She winked at him, gave him her best mysterious smile, and quickly made for the elevator. Ahmad stood, stunned, and before he could chase her down, she was gone.

---

“I’m on my way down,” Cai said into her phone, hitting send on the text. Nadia would be waiting for her by the time she got to the ground floor. She felt like she needed a shower. Running the surveillance on jobs like these was her least favorite part of the life. She would rather be buried in books in the library, or out in the field on a discovery site than interact with those kinds of people. If she was being honest, any people, really. One of the great things about ancient civilizations and cultures is that they never tried to seduce you or lie to you.

If all went well, she would have the Golden Linga within a week and be on her way to Vietnam before Ahmad or anyone else even knew it was missing. She stepped out into the luxurious lobby and hurried through the front entrance, held open by the smartly dressed doorman.

“Have a lovely evening, Miss,” he said, tipping his hat and following her to the curb as Nadia pulled up.

“Thank you!” The doorman opened the door to the blue Prius for her, and she handed him a ten dollar bill. “Have a great night!”

Nadia pulled away, checking her mirrors, and bounced excitedly.

“So?”

Cai sighed. “It’s there. Right where you said it would be. Should be a fairly easy job.”

“Yes! I knew it. And was he there?”

“Oh he was there alright. Such a sleeze-bro.” She shuddered. “Do you know he wanted me to go up to his room to see his sex art collection?!”

Nadia laughed loudly. “Of course he did, babe! You’re hot! And he’s rich. And so he assumes that means it’s a done deal.”

“So gross.”

Nadia laughed again as they drove off into the Manhattan night.