“No.”
“Why did he go that night?”
“He said he had to check on some plane tickets for actors.”
“Did you buy that?”
“Well, I tell you,” Max said, smiling at the thought. “Mr. Mann could have sent somebody else to do it. But lots of times he does things himself because he’s suspicious, you know?”
“Yes, I know,” Perkins said. “How was he that night?”
“A little edgy.”
“You make any stops on the way?”
“Well, here’s the thing,” Max said. “I needed gas for the limo, and I told him. I wanted to get it on the way back because it was around seven forty, and I didn’t want to miss the flight for the film. He said okay, but then he said he had to hit the john, so he made me stop at the next station. And I figured, hell, I’m already here, so I got her gassed up.”
“You stayed with the car?”
“Sure. Well, I went to the can myself after he came out.”
“So you were away from the car for a few moments.”
“Well, you know, long enough to take a leak.”
“Do you remember which station it was?”
“Yeah, it was Harry’s Exxon. Just about halfway between here and the airport, maybe nine miles from here, on the north side of the highway.”
“Thank you,” Perkins said, standing up.
The drinks came. Max looked a little confused.
“You drink mine for me,” Perkins said, and he left, and I went running after him, as soon as I’d paid for the drinks.
“Hey!” Max called to us, just before the door closed. “How can you walk out on knockers like that?”
* * *
By now it was eight thirty at night, and I was very tired and hungry, but Perkins was energized. He wanted to go to Harry’s Exxon, and he wanted to go immediately.
So we drove out, and Harry’s was still open, but they were getting ready to close. Perkins jumped out of the car and went directly for the trash cans, which were big old oil drums painted white and located behind the washrooms. Perkins was wearing his spiffy clothes as usual, but he was rummaging like a bum in the trash.
“What’re you looking for?” I asked.
“Aha!” he said, and then he came up with a can of film in his hand. It was sealed, and it had the studio emblem on it. This was obviously the missing can of film.
“We’re lucky they didn’t pick up the trash in the last two days,” he said. “We’ve saved the company some reshooting.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “Mann must have taken that film and tossed it away while Max was in the bathroom. But what was the point?”
“No point, as it turned out,” Perkins said. “It was all a mistake.”
“What do you mean?”
“He threw out the wrong can.”
* * *
