The 16mm Caper

Chapter 12

The Platter was a huge, dimly lit room of all dark stained wood and paisley upholstered booths. White linen, candle lamps and pewter dinnerware decorated each alcove table, and as the jaunty waiter led the group to their table, strains of new age music wafted from the hidden speakers. He recited the chef's specials, took drink orders and melted away into the gloom.

"This place is always so dark.' Catlin complained. "We came here on an anniversary and didn't even know what we ate."

"Come now, hon. I think that's a stretch." Dylan smiled and leaned against his wife.

"Well you weren't sure if it was fish or chicken as I recall."

"It was chicken of the sea." She punched his arm. "I was joking."

"So what's your really good stuff?" Mary changed the topic, drawing everyone's attention to Peter.

He took a breath and straitened up in the booth. "Well, I tracked down the guy who was interested in the film and called him."

"You said you were going to do that."

"Yeah, well I did. And guess what he said."

"Hello?" Catlin.

"Funny. Very funny, Catlin. When I told him the film wasn't for sale he offered me ten thousand dollars."

"What!" Mary jerked in her seat.

"And then he raised to fifteen." Peter bobbed his head in affirmation at the stunned looks on his friend's faces.

"You said no to ten?"

"And to fifteen." Peter nodded again.

"How could you turn down that kind of money?" Catlin gaped at him and then at Mary.

"Because he raised it again to twenty-five." Peter laughed and slapped the table just as the waiter returned with their drinks.

"Are you joking?" Mary's voice rasped, and she gulped a mouthful of wine.

"Nope. And I said no that too."

"Are you nuts? Twenty-five thousand dollars?" Catlin stared incredulously.

"Hey, listen. If it's worth it to this guy to just keep upping the offer, imagine what it must really be worth."

"To whom?" Dylan.

"Well to- to someone. I mean there must be a market for this thing somewhere that this guy is connected to."

"Yes, but you aren't, Peter." Mary swallowed the rest of her wine and looked around for the waiter. "My god, with that kind of money you could do all kinds of things."

Peter sighed and sipped from his own drink. "You guys just don't understand. This film is unique, a one of a kind. I own a one of a kind unique piece of cinematic history. Shit, museums would die for this."

"So where is this masterpiece?" Dylan asked.

"At the film restorers. This guy is a genius, he burned it onto disc for safekeeping."

"Can you be sure he won't make extra copies?" Mary.

"I trust him." Peter closed the subject and was relieved when the waiter came by for their orders.

******

Austin assumed as calm an exterior as possible as he listened to Vera's conflicted and confused description of the evening's events. He followed her every move carefully as she paced around the penthouse living room, touching lamps and picking up ornaments with a strange regard, her eyes shining with a feral gleam.