Drelome: Didn't expect to see you again so soon, Fleming.
From behind the thick glass wall of the counter, Drelome pokes out with a bemused look on his face.
Drelome: Thought you just pulled off a big deal? Have you burned through all that money so soon?
Fleming: Don't ask stupid questions, Drelome. You'll live longer.
Drelome: But of course. Your business is your own; only I wonder if you're willing to name a price on that pistol of yours now.
Fleming shoots him a look of cold disdain as he sets a plain wooden box on the counter.
A withered hand reaches across, opens it, then snaps it shut again.
Drelome: She is beautiful indeed. So, what sort of deal are you after?
Fleming: Ten million. Cash.
Drelome: Impossible.
He pushes the box back across the glass.
Fleming: Damn it, you realize that right there is "The Merciful Maria"!
Drelome: It may be, it may not be; all I can see is a "Greedy Fleming."
Drelome: It has a fine story, bloody, dark; I may have a customer. But for ten million?
Drelome: As I told you before, my offer was only ever going to drop.
Fleming slides the pistol box back across the counter again.
Fleming: Nine.
Drelome: Eight. And naturally you'll be signing all the relevant transfers.
Fleming: ... Deal!
Drelome: Voila, sign here. I'll have the money sent your way—minus a five percent fee, of course.
Fleming: You slimy old drunk. After I strike it rich, I'll buy this whole block and put you out on the street.
He scrawls his name across the page.
Drelome: I will be looking forward to that day, monsieur.
Fleming turns, his step and demeanor a combination of excitement and anger.
It's a plain, tired old inn, just across the street from the pawnshop.
Tennant leans against the window, idly spinning a revolver. Cobwebs glint faintly in the corner, waiting for some unlucky insect.
Tennant: Fleming's been in that pawnshop for twenty minutes now.
???: You think he'll get ten million?
The cylinder snaps open, spins fast under her thumb, then clicks shut again—Empty.
Tennant: I can hardly imagine Drelome being that generous, can you?
Tennant: The old fox might barely be able to walk without wobbling, but he's still sharp.
Tennant: Little doubt he'll sniff out Fleming's desperation.
???: You think he'll get seven?
The cylinder spins again, stops. Still empty.
Tennant: I doubt he'd part with it for less. We are talking about "The Merciful Maria."
Tennant: Our friend went to great lengths—from procuring those diamonds to fixing up that box—just to get her hands on it.
???: Heh ... so eight million?
The cylinder spins a third time with a faint whir, just as Fleming comes into view outside Tennant's window.
Tennant holds the cylinder still, a diamond bullet ready in its chamber.
Tennant: From the look on his face, I do believe you're right on the money.
???: Eight million is still a fine haul. Enough to buy a villa in Saint-Remèze, complete with a Second Empire stone fireplace and southern sunlight.
???: I can see it now. Fully electrified, ready for everything a modern life requires.
Tennant: Money isn't the goal of this game of ours. Ten million is just the bottom line. The only way to prove the seeker's sincerity.
Tennant: Say what you will about the man, he's crafty. I do believe he'll find a way to gather that final two million.
???: You should head back to your little lab. Odds are he's eager to get that money in your hands.
Tennant: No, I doubt that.
???: Oh?
Tennant watches as Fleming turns and disappears into the alley.
Tennant: I said he was crafty, but note I didn't say wise.
Tennant: I'm sure when he first laid eyes on those synthetic gemstones, he was giddy with delight.
Tennant: But now, the rush has worn off. He's pawned off his most prized possession, and now he's wandering Paris laden with cash.
Tennant: No, I believe he'll cool off first.
Tennant: Then, because he is crafty, if not clever. I do believe he'll make an effort to hedge his bets. He might start digging into just who this "Brette Cosette" really is.
???: Oh, so you think Brette's about to be exposed. How will she handle it?
Tennant: With sincerity—always, sincerity is her greatest strength.
