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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1177607-The-Jade-Princess
Rated: E · Short Story · Crime/Gangster · #1177607
A lesson in life
According to my Grandpa his father was a simple man. He wasn't stupid but sometimes he just didn't think ahead. He was also acquisitive. No, not inquisitive - acquisitive. In other words he took things. It was never anything big, nothing very valuable; just cash or anything that would fetch a few bucks in a hockshop. Usually it was barely enough to buy him a steak and a couple of beers. Except once that is. Just once he hit the big time, in fact he hit it so big it was massive and it left us with our one and only family heirloom.
From what I can gather Great-Grandpa didn't rely on his light fingers to earn his living. He owned a horse and cart that he used to hire out to transport things. He drove it himself and made enough out of it to keep a roof over the heads of Great Grandma and six kids. Anyway, early in the last century he got a job transporting baggage and stuff from Grand Central Station to one of the big hotels near Central Park. Now, I guess you can see the situation? A petty thief who had access to the service elevator and all the floors in a very grand hotel? Great-Grandpa just had to try his luck and open a few doors occasionally.
I'm not sure whether he managed to steal anything before he got lucky. If he did he couldn't have got much because the family know nothing about it. The story we have says that on the big day he was delivering luggage and helping to carry it up to what we would now call the penthouse suite. Anyway, somehow he was left alone for a while and, just out of habit, he tried a few door handles. One opened and he found himself in the most luxurious room he had ever seen. Not being one to hang about, Great-Grandpa looked around for anything that was small enough to hide in his pocket and which looked as if it might bring a few dollars.
He didn't have to look very far. In a polished glass cabinet against the wall was a single item. He grabbed it and realized immediately that it was the delicately carved figurine of a young girl. Even he was impressed by its intricacy and, not wanting to break it, he grabbed a small carved box, emptied the cigarettes it contained into his pocket, and put the figure inside. Within five minutes, he was out of the hotel, sitting on his cart and going home.
At that time Great-Grandpa had seen the inside of more than one New York police precinct and he had learned from his mistakes. Instead of heading for the nearest hockshop he stopped off on the way home and hid the box and its contents. He suspected the police would trace him and that they would check his known fences and he was right. What he didn't anticipate was the furor his little escapade would create.
Usually, if he were suspected of something, the local cop would come and take him down to the precinct. This time they sent a covered police wagon with an inspector, a sergeant and six policemen. Great-Grandpa was thrown bodily into the back of the wagon where a couple of cops set to work trying to persuade him to talk while the rest tore his apartment to pieces. They emptied every drawer and cupboard, ripped up floorboards, even dug up the yard and looked down the john.
Great-Grandpa was beaten until he looked like he had been trampled by his horse and couldn't think straight, but he didn't confess. One look at what was happening had persuaded him that if they once pinned this on him he would go away for a very long time. While he had already done short periods behind bars, the thought of years at hard labor terrified him more than the beating did.
They kept him for a week. During that time they hit him, cajoled him and promised him a plea bargain. Finally, they even tried to bribe him. He was a stubborn old guy though and he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of admitting what he had done. In the end they had to let him go. During the time the cops were holding him he had picked up a little of what it was he had started, but it wasn't till he got home that he realized the full extent of his crime.
It turned out that the green figure was a thirteenth-century Japanese carving known as the Jade Princess. It belonged to the Emperor of Japan, was apparently priceless and had been brought to New York by a Japanese Prince for exhibition in a museum. Its loss had caused a major diplomatic incident and had made headlines in every newspaper across America. The figure was one of a kind though and the police promised that, as soon as the thief tried to dispose of it, they would have him.
Now, as I said at the start of this, Great-Grandpa was a simple guy, but he wasn't stupid. Whether he retrieved the cigarette box and its precious contents and then hid them again, I don't know. What I am sure about is that, from that day on, he denied all knowledge of the theft, no matter who asked him. He realized that he could not sell the figure, his usual sources would not touch it and he had no way of contacting those who might have been tempted to buy it, so he hung on to it.
Some time before he passed on he must have fetched the box from its hiding place because, as he lay breathing his last, he told his eldest son, my Grandpa, the story and showed him the figure. That's how it has been ever since. The Jade Princess in its old carved box has been passed on from father to eldest son. It's never put on show, but we know where it is and we can look at it whenever we want. I was given it by my Dad on the day that the doctor told him that his thirty a day habit was finally going to kill him.
He lasted just six months after that, but it's a pity he didn't hang on for a little while longer. Just two weeks after he died one of the big magazines contained a story about the Jade Princess showing up in Japan nearly a hundred years after it was supposedly stolen in New York. There were pictures with the article and the figure they showed was an exact replica of the one Great-Grandpa had stolen. Or rather it turned out to be the other way round. Ours was the replica. I had it valued and they assured me that it was a late nineteenth century copy that was worth maybe a couple of thousand bucks.
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Great-Grandpa, his son and grand-son had all kept the secret for nothing. The Japanese Prince must have had the replica made in Japan and smuggled it into New York. He then conveniently left a door open and Great-Grandpa obliged by stealing it. Great Grandpa got all the hassle but the Prince had proved to be the bigger thief.
I still have the Jade Princess. I was tempted to sell it but I didn't. Like I said, it's the only heirloom our family has ever had. Besides, I don't need the money now. Not after selling the fourteenth century Imperial trinket box that Great-Grandpa had used to hide his false Princess.
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