Since both Hughes and Julia were out, all calls went to Austin, and he blessed the stroke of luck that allowed him to intercept this particular call. He asked the caller to wait and he went around and closed his office door. This was a surprise. The young man was obviously very astute and enterprising; he wondered how he'd discovered Ralston's number.

Perhaps his alliance with Julia was coming at the right time; should any unpleasantness arise Ralston could well be placed front and center. He picked up the telephone.

"Thank you for waiting. Now, how may I help you?"

"I just called to inform you personally that the film is not for sale at this time."

"Film? I'm afraid you've--"

"Don't bother. I already spoke to your man and he gave me your name. And before you object again, I have a card with the same number on it from your, Mata Hari, representative."

Austin silently conceded the point. "Would you at least allow me to make my offer before you refuse?"

"Offer away nothing will chan--"

"Ten thousand dollars."

Peter gaped at the phone. Ten thousand dollars! A quick subtraction of his expenses and he silently acknowledged one hell of a profit. Immediately he thought that there must be more to Guns Across the Rio Grande than he knew. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "I uh- I don't think so."

"What if the offer was raised to fifteen thousand including all the copies if any, and all records referring to the item?"

"I- I can't guarantee that no copies have been made. The film company had it for a week; who knows what they did."

"Twenty-five thousand."

Peter choked. "Look, Mister Hughes, I'm not trying to get more money here. I don't want your money. I just don't want to sell."

"Pity, it could have been a simple business deal."

"Could have been?"

"Goodbye Mister Rabb." Austin tapped the phone with his fingers and smiled ruefully. Pity he didn't accept but at least the young man thought he was dealing with Ralston.

Peter stared at the silent phone. Could have been? He placed a call to Harv at Cinelab, told him about the offer and made arrangements to do further examinations and cataloguing. He also suggested another copy be placed somewhere off the premises - somewhere safe." Harv listened without comment about the offers and agreed without question.

******

Vera strode into the hotel room occupied by Harry and Douglas, and went straight to the bar refrigerator, extracting a beer and wrenching the cap off.

"Can I get you a drink maybe?" Harry growled, his own three-quarters empty.

"Too cute, Feldman. Austin wants us to shake down the guy's apartment. He called and said no sale." She tipped up the bottle and drained half of it in one swallow. Douglas raised his eyebrows and made an admiring oh with his mouth.

"Austin talked to him? What the hell for?"

"The guy thought he was reaching Hughes but Austin took the call. He tracked the number down somehow." She finished the beer and tossed the bottle on one of the beds, ignoring the fact that she had supplied the number on her card.

"How?" Harry didn't like the idea that their mark was too enterprising.

"Who cares? Just do the apartment. He said copies had probably been made so look for discs. If nothing shows up there we'll do the lab."

"He works nights. I could just follow the broad in when she gets home from work. She'll tell me where the film is." Douglas smirked at the couple.

"Very shrewd Douglas. Instead of an undetected break and enter we can create a home invasion complete with descriptions and even identification."

Vera strolled over to where he slouched with one leg on the arm of the chair and before he could react, placed the point of her shoe on the crotch of his jeans.

"Hey!"

"Don't move, baby, not unless you think singing soprano is your goal." She leaned forward and he held his breath. "Austin said to search the apartment. He didn't say anything about socializing with the woman. If that becomes necessary, I'll take care of it. Understood?" Her toe prodded him and he squeaked his agreement.

Harry poured himself another drink and went to the window. Goddamn amateurs. "Does he have a timetable?"

Vera took her foot away and turned to Harry. "Dougie here said he works nights. Is he workin' tonight?"

Douglas nodded from his upright, knees tight position.

"Okay, if she's there we need to keep the dame out of the place while we search."

Vera turned to Douglas and stared at his pale complexion. "Guess I'll have to arrange that if necessary." She faked a move toward him and laughed aloud when he jumped with a squeaky yelp. "I'll call you on your cell when it's safe," she called to Harry as she left the room.

"I'm gonna get that broad," Douglas boasted after she left, suddenly brave again.

"Leave it alone, Dougie boy. If you're smart you'll leave it alone."

******

Wendel was ecstatic. Not only had Peter managed a great deal on the rental of a current major release, his deal had been based on seven nights if the opening broke a negotiated box office take - and it had. The lobby was crowded with families buying confections and drinks and when the lights flashed for the start of the picture they did another flurry of last minute purchases.

"Marvellous, Rabb. Marvellous." Wendel beamed his Jack Nicholson smile.

"Yeah, looks pretty good doesn't it."

"With tonight's take you could be looking at a wee bonus, my friend." Wendel patted his back and spun on his tiny Cuban heels, clapping gaily as he bounced up the stairs to his office.

"Would a wee bit 'o that bonus be comin' our way, laddie?" Gordy leaned on the candy counter and shared a laugh with Rose, the confection counter fixture.

"What's with the phony Scottish burr," he asked, tossing a look after his boss. "Nicholson isn't Scottish."

"Who knows the truth?" Gordy shrugged.

"You couldn't handle the truth!" Peter replied in his best, imitation of their boss's idol.

"Unless I'm paid - laddie."

"I'd happily pay you to drop that terrible accent." He took a last look into the darkened auditorium, pleased at the crowd's reaction to the opening of the picture, and waved to his friends as he headed up to his own tiny office.

The light was flashing on his machine and he pushed the message button, leaning on his desk as he listened.

"Hi Rabb. Just wanted to call and see how your deal worked out. Guess your busy so call me when you can. I'm at your place."

"My place." Peter smiled and shook his head. Like it's been my place for three years now. He picked up the phone and dialled.

"Peter Rabb's residence."

"Oh please, Mare. Don't tell me that's how you answer my phone."

"Certainly not. I usually say: Rabb's Hutch, hot dates are us. Has a sort of Playboy ring don't you think?"

"Right. At least you sound brighter. Things at work okay?"

"Nothing's changed, but we won the trip and I'm still employed so what the hell."

"Hang tough, kid. The film's a smash. House is packed and we met our negotiated take, so it's ours for a week."

"Super. That's just super."

"I thought I might even run Guns Across the Rio Grande as a bonus."

"Rabb! Are you out of-?"

"Whoa! I'm kidding. It's sixteen mil, remember? Besides, it's safely tucked away, and the DVD is in my office safe."

"Sorry."

"Boy, I make a joke and it's like War of the Worlds."

"I said sorry."

"Okay. I'll call you around nine or so and let you know when I can get off. Right now I'm Wendel's fair-haired boy so I'm getting out early. Can we meet at The Platter, grab some dinner, I've got some really great stuff to tell you?"

"I'll wait there for you. Bye."