Chapter 110: Robbed
Frank followed the skinny Black man into an alley behind Harlem Paradise, where a minivan waited. They both quickly got in, and the van sped away.
"Damn! Too late!" Several others burst out of the back door, cursing and stamping their feet—these were the people Frank had "brushed past" earlier.
As the minivan drove down the street, a black phone flew out the window, smashing onto the road. Several cars ran over it, crushing it into scrap metal.
"Hey! That was the latest iPhone! Why'd you throw it away? You could have given it to me!" The skinny man exclaimed, watching Frank discard the phone as if it were nothing.
"Trust me, you don't want it," Frank replied, starting to take off his clothes.
He stripped down to his socks and underwear, then opened the backpack the skinny man had given him. It contained a complete set of clothes and shoes, clearly used.
Not bothered, Frank changed, tossing his old clothes out the window.
"Hand it over!" As soon as Frank finished changing, two burly men in the van grabbed him, while the skinny man reached into Frank's pocket and pulled out a small cloth bag.
Opening the bag, he poured out an assortment of jewelry and rings, clearly expensive, high-end items.
"Hey! This isn't what we agreed on!" Frank protested.
"That bodyguard you wanted to ditch looked like trouble, and I don't want any part of that. This is where we part ways. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr… whoever you are," the skinny man said with a wide, insincere grin.
The minivan stopped, the door opened, and Frank was kicked out, tumbling onto the ground and hitting a wall before coming to a stop.
By the time he got up, the minivan was already speeding away.
"Damn it!" Frank yelled, giving the departing van the middle finger.
"My new clothes…" Frank looked at his dust- and dirt-covered clothes. There was a puddle on the ground, and he had landed in it when kicked out of the van, soaking his back and pants.
"But at least I'm finally safe," Frank said, sighing in relief as he sat down on a bench.
Frank had never given up on escaping, and this was the best plan he could devise.
The estate's security was too tight for an escape from within; his only chance was during an outing.
He'd already tried escaping alone, but it was impossible with the driver constantly at his side.
If one person couldn't do it, then he needed help.
However, Frank was alone in New York, with no friends or family, and his bugged and tracked phone couldn't be used to call for help.
But where there's a will, there's a way.
Though Frank knew no one in New York, some things were universal. There were always ways to find help in the underworld, and 'Frank' hadn't wasted his fifty-plus years there.
Frank searched the streets for potential "partners," relying on 'Frank's' experience to identify those with the right potential.
Birds of a feather flock together, and as they say, it takes one to know one.
It was like with homosexuals - no matter how much they tried to blend in, another homosexual could spot them instantly.
With the driver always present, Frank couldn't speak freely, which explained his strange behavior earlier that day.
He had written his request on a note, along with an upfront payment, a gemstone ring as a deposit. Those willing to help would understand.
In essence, Frank was taking a gamble, hoping for the best.
If someone took the ring and ignored the note, Frank wouldn't have been surprised.
After all, the deposit wasn't his money; it belonged to the generous Joseph.
Despite being a billionaire, Joseph was essentially no different from a nouveau riche.
He was, after all, the same loser who used to compete with Frank in drinking contests at the Elibar Pub. He'd somehow become a billionaire in recent years, but expecting him to have the class and refinement of a true gentleman was asking too much.
And what do the nouveau riche love to do most? Show off their wealth, of course.
Joseph's estate was the epitome of luxury, a testament to his wealth. He had acquired many items solely to flaunt his riches.
Jewelry and the like were displayed openly, without any protection, practically begging to be taken.
Not just Frank, but his drinking buddies had also "taken" quite a few items on their first day at the estate, Frank being the most restrained among them.
Initially, Frank felt uneasy, but after two days with no reaction from the butler, it seemed like tacit approval.
Frank didn't believe the butler hadn't noticed. His companions weren't exactly subtle, emptying entire drawers of jewelry and watches. Even a blind man would have noticed.
Since the butler didn't intervene, it meant Joseph had allowed it, making them even bolder, privately praising Joseph's generosity.
But now, Frank realized it wasn't generosity; it was a last meal, a devil's temptation.
Since everyone was destined to become the monster's sacrifice, it didn't matter how much they took; they wouldn't live to use it. Once everyone was dead, the stolen items would naturally return to their place.
Luring everyone with women, alcohol, drugs, and riches, making them too comfortable to leave, before ultimately becoming sacrifices.
Since Joseph had malicious intentions, Frank didn't hesitate to exploit his wealth.
Frank chose Harlem Paradise for a reason.
The environment was conducive to escape. Black people and white people often clashed, especially in Harlem, where Black people held the advantage.
If Frank sparked a conflict with his collaborators, others would likely intervene and obstruct the driver, who was white.
Frank was lucky to find someone willing to help for money and successfully escaped the driver's surveillance.
However, there was a slight hiccup in the final stage. His collaborators, driven by greed, lacked any sense of honor and robbed him.
It was understandable, though. After all, they were strangers, and their motivation was purely financial.