Chapter 8: Contact

Chitose Lafferty, wealthy upper plate dweller and President of the Keepers of Honor, listened on her high-end PHS, barely controlling both shock and elation. She ran her fingers through her long, black hair over and over again. Nerves. She didn't want to make a mistake and lose this amazing opportunity.

"I'll have to verify it in person, you understand," she said smoothly to the person on the other end of the conversation, a nervous-sounding woman named Mary. "But if it's genuine and the centerfold is intact, I will make you a handsome offer for it."

"The magazine itself is a little worn, but the centerfold is perfect," said Mary.

"Ask for a number," a man's voice said in the background of the call. Mary must have her PHS on the speaker setting.

"I heard," Chitose said. She leaned back against the plush cushions of the expensively upholstered loveseat and adjusted her silk dinner gown. The call had come in as Chitose was preparing for a late dinner, but she was glad she'd answered. More than glad. "How does thirty-five thousand gil sound?" This was no time to haggle. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and had fallen right into her lap. No one had seen a copy of Barely Legal, Harvest Time Special! for sale in years and she was determined to secure the prize.

There was silence over the PHS. After a moment where Chitose held her breath, hoping she'd offered enough, Mary said, "The club will buy it, then?"

Chitose carefully breathed out, as silently as she could so as not to reveal her relief. "As I said, I need to verify it, but we have members worldwide who contribute funds to a dedicated bank account for...special...purchases such as this." It wasn't a lie; the club did have those kinds of accounts. However, Chitose planned to spend her own money. She had no intention of buying the magazine with Keepers of Honor funds. There would be no way to hide the expenditure from the other club officers, so it would become the legal property of the club. Chitose wouldn't accept that; she wanted it for herself.

In the background, the man was saying something to Mary again. Chitose strained her ears, and barely heard him suggesting that they get another bid.

Ah, it was to be an informal auction, was it? Chitose couldn't blame them for hunting for the best price, but she refused to lose this purchase. "I assure you, Mary, that I will meet or exceed any other offer you receive. Even Prestige Collectibles won't offer you so much, though of course you can call them tomorrow morning when they open and find out for yourself." Prestige was the biggest and most expensive collectibles shop in a particularly wealthy area of Midgar. Mary and her friend would be idiots to shop the magazine out anywhere else, but the owner would almost certainly try to lowball them.

"I don't know..." Mary's voice wavered.

"Forty thousand gil," said Chitose. "I can't go any higher with club funds."

"Take it," the man whispered, obviously assuming he couldn't be heard.

"I'll take it," said Mary. "Where would you like to meet?"

Chitose felt exultation rise in her breast. "We will need to go somewhere discreet, where I can inspect my purchase and exchange payment in utmost privacy." She gazed blankly at the crystal chandelier for a moment, considering potential locales. Mary and her friend sounded so...common. The way they spoke, their accents...all told of working class people. Chitose shuddered delicately. The restaurants, salons, and shopping districts she knew were probably too upscale. "Do you have any suggestions? Perhaps someplace we would both be comfortable visiting?"

"Um, I don't know, but maybe..."

Please not in Wall Market, please not in Wall Market, please not in Wall Market, Chitose chanted mentally. While it seemed like the kind of place this Mary person might frequent, Chitose would veto any suggestion for a spot near Wall Market. Such a sordid, horrid place...even if her best friend's husband had made a fine fortune in his youth doing "business" in its underground dens. But that had been over two decades ago. Now Liam was a respected commodities investor. He and his wife were accepted everywhere socially. None of this troubled Chitose. She was a firm adherent to the philosophy that behind every great fortune was a great crime, and some of her own family's dealings back in her grandfather's time—well, the less said, the better. As a rule, the upper social classes all had a few questionable activities in their family histories, and they simply pretended such things had never happened.

"What about the eastside playground at the Sector Two upper plate?" Mary suggested. "Tomorrow? It's my day off from work, so I'm free all day."

Chitose felt surprise. That was actually an acceptable location. A decent middle class area, it boasted not only the playground with good quality artificial lawns, flowers, and trees, but some pleasant chain restaurants, shopping centers, and midscale housing. No one would care about two women gossiping on a bench at a playground, and Chitose's schedule was always open. That was the advantage of wealth. She could meet anytime Mary wanted.

"That sounds perfect," Chitose said. "Be sure to keep the item concealed. Is a direct money transfer acceptable? We can meet and—"

"I want cash," Mary blurted out suddenly. "No checks, no e-transfers."

Oh ho, this was getting interesting. Chitose had thought Mary sounded just a trifle nervous throughout the conversation. Most people would be thrilled with a direct money transfer into their own accounts, but perhaps there was something going on that wasn't quite above board? How amusing.

Or maybe, Chitose admitted, she read too many thrillers. The reason might be pragmatic. She'd heard that many lower class people preferred cash. In her mind, anyone who wasn't upper middle class was probably lower class, in attitude if not by any financial definition.

Still, the way Mary had phrased her demand for cash rang with familiarity in Chitose's head. She toyed with the platinum and diamond pendant dangling from her neck. She really wanted that magazine, and she wasn't particular about legalities in any case.

"Very well," she agreed without complaint. "I can get cash easily enough."

After that, the planning and preparations went smoothly. They would meet at the East Playground in Sector Two tomorrow morning. After the call ended, Chitose went to the hidden safe in the upscale townhome's theater room to extract the necessary funds. She and her husband always kept a little extra spending money there. One never knew when one might need cash, though in her world it didn't often come up. Most of the designer boutiques happily accepted Lafferty credit.

It was just as well Joseph was away on business for a week. She wouldn't need to answer any questions, should he bother to notice, and she could replace the petty cash in a day or two. Not that her husband would care, but this was her secret score and she wanted to enjoy it privately for a while.

Now she understood what that phrase about "the cat getting the cream" really felt like. Cream, indeed.

Pleased beyond measure, she rang for her butler to serve her dinner. She'd take a late swim in the indoor pool, and then enjoy a fine Banora White apple cordial in her warm, whirlpool bath. This was a night to celebrate.