“Don’t fear contradiction too much, Spanner, fear instead staying wrong too long.” -Domena Caiman, 1989
Act III: Filter Added
Onboard the Grand Ivory, 30km offshore, Quintland, Bermuda:
Richard Spanner: “Sharon, we have been over this have we not? Not now, okay. I don’t have time. Make yourself useful, find my MicroTAC.”
Sharon: Richard, it’s in your breast pocket.
Richard Spanner: What–Oh–oh, so it is. [laughs, chewingly] Amazing how small it is–I do forget sometimes–smaller than a brick. Anyway get out of here.
Somewhere outside Merida, Yucatan, Mexico:
Domena Caiman: “Caiman–”
Richard Spanner: “Caiman, it’s Spanner. Where are you?”
Domena Caiman: “…The highway. What do you need, Spanner?”
Richard Spanner: “Listen. What would you say if, I told you I found Raymond Griggs.”
Domena Caiman slows down, he pulls over to the side of the road:
Domena Caiman: “Where is he, did you kill him?”
Richard Spanner: “No. Not yet. But we will, of course.”
Domena Caiman: “We?”
Richard Spanner: “I’d said what I’d said. Yes–we.”
Domena Caiman unmounts his bike.
Domena Caiman: “Listen. I understand, I respect it I do, but I work alone.
Richard Spanner: “Caiman, I know you did not kill Martin. … You can trust me. … I know you want Griggs dead, as much as do I, so work with me and I’ll give you the honor for yourself. And, of course, Caiman naturally I’ll pay you–Twice the weight Griggs flanked of you and then some.”
Domena Caiman wonders how Richard Spanner might know that detail; specifically he wonders, if Richard is aware of the fact his son’s last contract was self-employed; Caiman was hired by Martin Spanner in Alaska to kill Raymond Griggs, and were it not for Griggs’ last wish–a goodbye-cruel-world cigarette–the conversation had in that cave and subsequently, the deal which they made, would not exist, and thusly, Martin Spanner would still be alive–were it for that cigarette. “I should have shot Griggs dead,” Domena thinks.
Domena Caiman: “True, Spanner. Griggsie fucked me over. Not as bad as he did you–no, I won’t claim that–all due respect. But yeah Griggs, he’d fucked me over.
Richard Spanner: “Yes, he did most certainly fuck you over–evidently quite badly, suggests the intel I’ve gotten. It is as I’d said, Caiman, I do know where Griggs is hiding. I know everything–Okay? I do. I know everything, Caiman–every thing.
Domena Caiman: “I see. __I understand.”
Richard Spanner: “Good. Perfect. …so where are you?”
Domena Caiman: “The highway.”
Richard Spanner: [laughs, chewingly] “Well, then, Caiman, okay, okay__I’ll give you some time to digest. But for now I do take it though we have a deal of a sort, correct?
Richard Spanner heads up to the deck.
Richard Spanner: “As I’d said, you will get to kill the old bastard yourself. He’s yours. But–”
Domena Caiman: [interjects] “Where is he?”
Richard Spanner: “He’s in Brazil. Somewhere in the Amazon. Western tributaries. We’ll pin that down in short time, do trust.”
Domena Caiman: Brazil, huh. So, Griggs is in Brazil__Hey, you don’t think he–No–well, do you?”
Richard Spanner: “Knowing Griggs, yeah, I do, I think so. I really do. Lord knows Griggs’d give his left and right nut for a prize like that, and he’d be just dumb enough to believe in it, too–Lost village of Barclay, I mean, what a joke right.”
Richard Spanner pulls out a Barclay 1457 from his pocket and lights it.
Domena Caiman: Yeah, Griggs loves those 57s. He really does. I won’t fault him on that, though–1457, that’s quality tobacco. Griggs has actually mentioned that village to me before. Yani-Yani, or something. Sounded like bullshit, all myth I’m sure. But he’d said there’s a field, that it went missing in 1457, hence the brand name–
Richard Spanner: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, I know. The real 1457 tobacco–the authentic strain, yada yada, I know. It’s all bullshit, even Barclay says so, and I trade with that company, I would know. Griggs is a fucking idiot, Caiman, but God let him be–he’ll guide us right to him. I sent two scientists down there already to bring Griggs out into light for us. They don’t know it, but that’s exactly what they’re doing there. I’d funded their expedition–they’re looking for that same stupid field, do you see? Do you understand me? Caiman?”
Domena Caiman was lost in a state of revery: “That field, man–real, authentic 1457s. Man. Griggs, Griggs, Griggs you crazy beautiful bastard!” Caiman thinks.
Richard Spanner: “Caiman? Caiman! Are you there? Caiman?
Domena Caiman: “…Yeah, I’m here. Wow, yeah, uh–like you’d said, Griggs is an idiot. Definitely.”
Richard Spanner: “Yeah. Right. Listen, I tried to say this but you interrupted. … I’m letting you kill Griggs, when we do find him, but you’ll have to work with someone–”
Domena Caiman: “No-can-do, Spanner. I work alone. Ever since Griggs, man, I’m done with teaming. Never again.”
Richard Spanner: “I understand that, I do. But now you need to understand something, too: You will be working with someone, whether you like it or not. Pull out of this deal, then consider him your competition, because he’s working on Griggs already. So just swallow the pill and be done with it. Besides, Caiman, I think you’re gonna like this guy. His name’s Benny Hedges. I’m looking at him, right now:
To Be Continued
Raymond Griggs: Ready to Die