In a low, deliberate voice, Richard said, "I'll ask again. What do you want?"
"I think it's pretty obvious. You're going to throw out a number. A number that you'd happily pay to make all of this go away."
Pearson was silent for a moment. "And what assurances do I have that the problem will actually go away? That you won't keep coming back for more and more money?”
"There's always an element of trust in situations like this,” Zoe said. “But I understand you want assurances. I will give you every copy of the footage I have. I'll give you my personal guarantee that I won't go to law enforcement or give the footage to the media."
"I'm afraid your personal guarantee isn't worth much. I don’t even know who you are.”
"I thought you might say something like that. That hurts my feelings. I like to think of myself as a trustworthy individual."
“Trustworthy individuals don't blackmail people.”
"Trustworthy individuals don't murder people in their bedroom.”
There was an awkward silence.
"I'm still waiting on that number."
"$50,000," Richard said.
Zoe laughed. "A life outside of prison seems worth a lot more than that. Especially for a man like you.”
"$100,000.”
"$250K in cash. That shouldn’t be too hard for you to get hold of.”
Richard took a deep breath.
"A onetime payment, and you'll never see me again.”
"I want to see the footage first.”
"Not a problem."
"Send it to me.”
Zoe laughed. "No. I'm not sending it over the Internet. I'm not giving you a way to trace me."
"I'm not that tech savvy."
"I don't care.”
"Fine. Meet me at Echo Beach at midnight.”
"No. I set the location."
After a pause, he said, “Where?”
"The parking lot of the old warehouse near Commerce and Terminal. You know, the one that blew up a few months ago."
"I know where it is.”
"I'll see you there. Come alone. Keep your cell phone turned on and answer when I call.” Zoe ended the call and smiled at me. “How’d I do?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a pro.”
“That was fun! So, what’s the plan?”
