8. SAMUEL

I wanted Leo. But I hadn't thought about him being here constantly. This morning, I watched him sleep, cuddling his teddy while dressed in those insanely adorable clothes. I had to keep myself composed, I couldn't expose my hand to him, the one hand that wanted to take hold and touch him in places that excited me.

His habits, while somewhat endearing, by the way he spilled food on himself, and the way he'd looked at me like he was completely innocent in all of this. As if I should feel sorry for snatching him away from his life of thievery so he could join me. People would fight for a spot at my side, and I'd gone ahead and given it to him.

We were in the car I'd hired, a Mercedes-Benz S-Class in black. I never used my cars. They could become damaged, and some of my meetings didn't always leave in such a clean-cut way, but the cuts were always clean.

I had my regular chauffeur, Jim, an old man I'd grown to know over the last couple years. He was quiet, and he could keep a secret.

"What's at the docks?" Leo asked in a whisper. "I don't really like the smell of fish."

I pressed a hand to my face, massaging my eye sockets. It started out he didn't like fibrous cereal, and then he didn't like the seeds in bread, and now he doesn't like fish. "Have you written your list?" I asked. "The sooner you write out what you do like, the sooner I can get them."

He smiled, it dimpled at the crease on where I'd cut his cheek.

I'd been nice to him, and I rarely knew how to do that. I could be nice to people I'd never met before, it was a curtesy, but being nice to someone who'd stolen from me, that was different. I wanted him, and that's why I was being nice. I had to remember that.

"Can I put anything down?" he asked. "I love energy drinks over coffee, so maybe I could have those."

"In the morning?" I grumbled, my face wrinkling in disgust. "Where were you raised?"

"Here," he said. "And I don't usually get up until the afternoon, so yeah, they're my breakfast some days. It's got sugar and caffeine, which replaces my need for breakfast. Then I usually eat lunch, probably something from a chicken shop because the chips they make are so good. And dinner is usually what we have in, so maybe noodles, or it depends on whether Susie makes food."

I paused, a finger tapping at my lip. "Well, that's fascinating. That will all change now."

Leo's shoulders seemed to deflate into himself. "So, is that a no to the energy drinks?"

I didn't want to say no to him. Asking me in his quiet tone with his wide eyes, those same eyes that were now clear of any redness, but still surrounded by light bruising. "Add it to the list, and I'll see, but no promises."

He turned to face the window and smiled, but I saw his reflection. He lit up.

"If I get you those sugar dense drinks, you'll need to work out in the home gym," I said. "As my live-in assistant, I require you to keep fit, plenty of stamina."

"Stamina?" he repeated back. "So, like, how fast I can run? Because I can run quick. It's how I can get away so easy."

I didn't doubt that one bit.

The car pulled to a stop as we arrived at the fish market. It was just after it closed at 8:30 A.M. but we weren't there to purchase fish from the wet market stalls. I knew my way around this place, and I knew exactly where I was going.

Jim waited outside in the car, and I led Leo in through the infamous arch of the market. People were cleaning up and packaging all the orders and deliveries for the day. My appointment was with Dave "Stoney" Stone. He headed up this particular import, and he'd called me about a discrepancy.

Walking into a refrigerated storeroom in the back of the large warehouse, Stoney was sat at a table with weighing scales. Behind him, a tall stack of fish in large white crates. There were three other men in the room. I didn't know their names, but I trusted Stoney to employ those he felt could handle the pressure of our work.

Leo was going red in the face as I watched him, confused on how to breathe without the smell of fish getting into his mouth or nose. I snapped my fingers at him. "This is my new assistant, Leo," I told them.

"What happened to the last geezer?" Stoney's raspy voice let out.

"I fired Carl about four weeks ago," I said. "He was stealing. You know I don't like thieves." I snapped my fingers at Leo ago. "He's learning the ropes. He'll take notes."

Stoney nodded. "Well, Boss, you know everything is weighed before packing, then inside the fish, and we like to make sure everything is accounted for."

I understood my business. I didn't understand why he was trying to explain it to me here and now. "Is that what the discrepancy is?" I asked. "Has someone been stealing?" I couldn't control the humour of the situation. After mentioning my previous assistant was taken care of, and since they didn't know about Leo, they might not have seen the same humour in it as me. "Because that would be incredibly stupid. I pay your men fairly, don't I?"

"Yes, Boss," Stoney agreed, nodding.

I stared at the two men behind him. "Do you two agree?"

"Yes, Boss," they said in unison.

"Then why would someone steal?" I looked to Leo. "Do you know?"

His wide eyes stared up at me, a bunny in headlights. "No."

"Tell me," I commanded.

"Well, we usually account for a couple grams of weight loss due to travel, but we saw a huge loss, and when I went to inspect. Well, let me show you."

"And you've had these here since—"

"Yesterday evening," he said. "Right when I called you. We arrived. We unpacked. We collected and weighed everything out."

The man passed the large fish across to him. He placed it on the scale.

"Is it caviar?" Leo asked, quietly.

"Caviar," I snickered. "Show him."

Stoney dug his knife into the belly of the long silver-blue scaled fish. He pushed back the flap to reveal its insides. There was a small pocket made to store precious gems and be smuggled into the country. This pocket was empty, except for a few remaining small diamonds on parchment paper.

"How much did they get away with?" I asked.

Stoney stood, removing the plastic gloves and placing the knife on the table. "I think he's still here, actually."

"You think, or you know?" I asked, my tongue becoming more aggressive. "And how much was it worth?"

"Around a quarter million," the man said. "But we don't know what carats they were, could be anywhere up to a million."

Stoney cleared his throat. "Well, no use in speculating that, I've kept this guy busy all morning, he's being watched until you arrived."

"Why are you suspicious of him?" I asked. I knew better than to get angry without all the facts in front of me. I was a businessman, and I had to be contained in public settings, even if we were currently standing in closed walk-in refrigerator.

"He mentioned to someone he was quitting, on our way back. We'd just—come out of the—the Black Sea into the Sea of Marmara," he said. "He said he'd saved enough money now to start his own business."

Sure, that was suspicious. "Who told who? And who told you?"

The same man who'd answered my earlier question stuck his hand up. "Well, Boss, he told me. It wasn't until we were weighing when we were even suspicious."

"Ok, bring him in," I said.

All three of them walked out, leaving me and Leo alone.

His teeth chattering, Leo spoke. "What are you going to do with him?"

"With him, I'm not sure," I said. "The facts are the facts. And I don't like to be stolen from. You know that." I walked around the counter and grabbed a pair of plastic gloves from the dispenser. "If one person thinks they can steal from me and get away with it, more and more people will try."

"You didn't tell me about your previous assistant, did he live with you as well?"

"No. Carl wasn't my type," I mumbled beneath my breath, although I was sure Leo heard me. The way he stopped looking at me to stare down at the notepaper he now furiously scribbled on. I looked around and grabbed one of the large, serrated knives, the best and easiest for gutting fish and slicing straight through scaley flesh. "After this, we'll go to the office, and I can give that list to someone for you."

"Ok," he said, avoiding eye contact. I'd flustered him.

The men brought back another with them. An older man with a face weathered by time at sea. He didn't look like someone who would steal.

"This is the one," Stoney said.

"How long have you worked for me?" I asked.

"Since your father," he answered.

I walked around him, interweaving myself between all four men. "And which one of you two said it was him again?" I asked, tapping the bottom of the knife against the palm of my hand. "I just want to make sure we've all got our stories straight."

"It was me," he said. "Bazza said he was quitting. He's got money now, or something like that."

"Bazza," I said, turning to the accused. "Well, do you have anything to say?"

"Sir, I—I haven't taken anything. I'd never. I've worked here for years. I've been through a lot with your family. I—"

I thought it would've been an easier confession. "That's a shame." I raised my hand with the knife in it, sticking it through a man's throat. The man who'd accused Bazza of theft. I saw the signs on him from the moment I walked in. He was the one who'd robbed those diamonds. "You didn't take them, but he did." I yanked the knife out of his throat, escaping the gush of blood as it squirted. He dropped to his knees, both hands on his neck, gagging from the blood collecting in his mouth.

Everyone stopped cold. I walked around and handed the bloodied knife to Leo. He held it without question, letting the blood get on his hands. He didn't realise what it was until too late.

"Check his pockets," I said, snapping my fingers at Stoney.

Stoney checked the man's pockets, coming out of them to find a velvet pouch filled with my diamonds. It was almost a miracle, except, I knew people. And rarely did they disappoint. "Sorry, Boss," Stoney said, opening the pouch. "We'll get these sent off with the rest of the shipment."

"I only take slight pleasure in doing that," I admitted. "If I find anyone else stealing, they know their fate. Give Bazza a bonus, if he's leaving, I at least want him taken care of." I nodded.

"Can I—" Leo's soft voice spoke, his hand shaking as he held onto the bloodied knife.

"Put it down," I told him as I pulled away the gloves and threw them to the ground. "If I have to come here again, it won't be pretty."

The three of them nodded. Bazza clearly putting on a brave face as he knew that the dead body on the ground could've been him.

We walked out, Leo still shaken up, holding onto his breath like he was trying to stop hiccups.

"Don't," I said to him. "Pull yourself together."

"I've—I've never seen someone—I've never seen that before."

"And your fingerprints are on the weapon," I said. "So, I suppose you've earned enough of my trust to get your phone back. And I saw you had an iPad. I'll give you the Wi-Fi later."

"My—my fingerprints," he gasped.

"I said don't," my voice deepened.

My phone rang from my inner pocket. It was my mother.

"Morning," I answered.

Her voice was weak, sobbing in distress. "Sammy, it's—it's your father," she said, continuing to sob. "He's dead."

My body washed over with numbing grey noise. It couldn't be possible. "I'll be right over."