The 16mm Caper

Chapter 39

Harry leaned away, yelling no to Douglas. Austin dropped his glass and reached toward Vera as Julia yelped and moved behind Austin. Vera launched herself from the sill, rolling to the floor in a ball and rising like a spectre to kick the gun from Douglas's hand before he could even register her movement.

The few seconds it all took were frozen in time and they each remembered vividly how Vera's stiletto heel pierced Douglas's neck, literally pinning him to the back of the couch.

"Good God, Vera!" Austin stumbled against Julia as he moved toward his daughter. Harry rolled off the couch and made for the front door, fumbling with the lock and looking back to where Julia grabbed Austin and steadied him as they watched Vera calmly yank her foot free and saw Douglas expire in a gurgle of spurting blood.

"He started it." She turned and went back to the window, tilting her head back and closing her eyes as she stretched like a wakening cat.

"Austin..." Julia choked. "Do something."

He gave her a helpless look and directed her, with a gentle push, to leave the room. Julia stopped in the dining room doorway and surveyed the carnage once more before leaving. Her eyes settled coldly on Harry who pulled himself from his stunned daze and fled the apartment.

"Vera, what have you done?" Austin moved to her side and hung his head. "This is too much to face, it's beyond fixing, darling."

She turned her face toward him. "Why? Just get rid of him. Who'll know?"

"Harry knows. Julia knows. I know, Vera. You can't just ignore this."

"You smell of scotch."

"Vera, please. This was too far."

"I know you won't say anything, father. And Harry would never breath a word, he knows better. As far as Julia goes, well I could have a chat with her."

Austin's eyes opened, and his head came up quickly. "No! Never! You will never lay a hand on Julia."

"I said chat, father. Chat." She started to move away and he grabbed her arms. "Vera, do not make me do something we'll both regret."

She sought his eyes and held them as she hissed her own warning before jerking free from his grasp.

"Vera!" Austin watched his daughter walk away, and before he could stop himself he grabbed the gun from the floor and aimed it at her back. "Vera, please."

She turned her head to smile and saw the gun. The smile vanished, and her body began to react but the roar of the weapon filled the apartment with its noise and Vera cried out as the bullet caught her high in the chest sending her staggering backwards over the dining table and onto the floor behind it.

Austin cried her name again and dropped the gun, running to her side and crouching beside her. Julia came from the bedroom, hand covering her mouth and body shaking. She stared at the scene and held her breath as Austin cried, and Vera slipped away questioning her daddy's action.

******

An intensive interview with the police who presented telephone records and a log of the emergency measures call to the home of the Brewers, forced Peter to acknowledge the confrontation with Vera and her cohorts, and it took considerable guile to weave a reasonable version of the event that eventually satisfied the police.

Nothing was mentioned about Freddy's encounter with Vera or Cheryl's business with Harry at the hotel. As far as anybody outside the participants knew, those things never happened. The phone calls were all explained away as negotiations for the film. One dicey moment arose over the break-in at Harv's studio. It had been reported for insurance purposes and the police were very curious whether it had anything to do directly with Ralston's death.

Peter fleshed out the idea that it was probably Vera again, trying to get her hands on the film, and it seemed reasonable so that avenue closed. Peter and Dylan's story was backed by the information provided by the still shaken receptionist and the telephone logs confirming earlier contact with Hughes by Peter.

The conclusion was reached that Ralston was killed for the highly sought after film by the woman that was in his office after Peter and Dylan left, another confirmation by the receptionist. Coupled with the EMO report and Peter's statement, Vera became the prime suspect and the others were dismissed aside from being called as potential witnesses if ever the killer was caught.

The group was free and clear and their next get-together was to draw up a plan for the shares of the remaining money in the account. A solemn gathering mulled over the danger they had placed themselves in but Harv and Dylan argued convincingly that if they all stuck to what they told the police nothing could go wrong.

An agreement was finally reached the division of the money overrode the previous concerns. Peter was to get the lion's share, then Harv and then the rest. Cheryl's donation of the ten thousand she received from Hughes was divided with half for Cheryl and equal amounts of the balance for the others. The five thousand each Peter initially provided, was ignored in the final calculation.

"What are you going to do with your money?" Mary asked when they were finally back home alone. The weekend was just beginning, and even the weather seemed more agreeable.

"Open a theatre of my own and just rerun Guns Across the Rio Grande over and over."

"You can't! You signed a paper saying there were no copies!"

"Mary, Jesus will you relax. I was joking."

She pouted and moved away on the couch. "I don't think it's funny."

"You don't think much of anything is funny any more." Peter got up and went to the fridge for a beer, returning to stand across the room.

"Well it isn't funny that I lost my position in the company because I spent too much time running around with your little band of conspirators."

"You didn't get fired."

"I lost my position! It will take ages to work my way back into Emmanuel's graces."

"Well you'll have your holiday to think about how to do it." He took a pull at the beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I'm not taking it."

He stared at her. "What? Why not?"

"Because I can't afford to lose any more ground at work. You don't seem to understand just what it means to miss meetings and opportunities." She waved a hand and crossed her arms.

Peter set down his bottle and leaned on the back of a chair. "I have never heard such unadulterated crap in all my life." His voice was low and calm as he spoke. "Do you think you are the only person in the world that has job pressures? You run around courting clients and waving fancy little sketches of their various products that you don't even create yourself. You are a glorified salesperson, Mary. You aren't the rainmaker of the advertising world."

"Is that what you think?" Her voice trembled, and he spotted wetness in her eyes.

"Look, I don't want to argue with you. Just don't come off like you're the only person on the planet that works or that your job is more important than God's."

He came back to the couch and sat beside her. "Mary we have a nice little nest egg between us, we can make some new choices if we want. We can do some things that really matter to us."

"Like what?" Her reaction wasn't too hostile and she didn't pull away when he put his arm around her.

"Well for starters, we'll take a holiday of our own and we'll give the other choices a concentrated assessment while we loll in the sun on a beach somewhere."

"Am I really like that, Peter?"

"Like what?"

"Like you just said."

He turned her face toward him and kissed her tenderly. "I don't want to argue with you, Mary. Let's just start fresh from here." She stared at him for a long time then tucked her head under his chin and murmured a soft agreement.