Max isn’t stupid. Looking at Harris, then at Martin, and recalling the obscene gestures made by that wretched bear costume Martin wore, it wasn’t hard to reach a conclusion: “You’re framing me?”

He shouted sternly, “This is blackmail and extortion. Kid, you’re in big trouble!”

“You hit someone and want to deny it?” Martin certainly wouldn’t admit anything. Instead, he picked up his phone, dialed 911, and asked Harris with a straight face, “Need me to call the police for you?”

Max’s demeanor was no longer even slightly gentle: “You’ve messed with the wrong person. You’re dead!”

Martin acted as if he hadn’t heard, muttering to himself, “Drugged driving causing serious injury… I remember there was a case like that in the community. That poor guy lost everything, and in the end got sentenced to… how many years?”

Max took a step back, leaning against the car.

Martin mumbled, “We’ve got a live case today. We’ll know soon enough.”

Harris played along enthusiastically, “Drugged driving, oh my god, that’s awesome! My chances of making a fortune are one hundred percent!” He improvised, “That videotape—make sure you sell it to me! I’ll pay $1,000!”

Max stared at Martin as if he were looking at a venomous snake.

Martin said, “Mr. Max, you’re an outstanding husband, a loving father, with a beautiful wife and adorable children. They must see you as their pillar and hero. I really admire you. I absolutely can’t let you get involved in a criminal case.”

“You son of a bitch!” Max cursed angrily. “You’re too shameless to be called human!”

Martin wasn’t provoked. “I’m a concerned citizen. If I report this and hand over the tape, I might even get a Marietta Honorary Citizen medal.”

Max was starting to lose it. “Don’t make yourself sound so noble, you slum-dwelling reptile! I know you’re in it for the money. Name your price and give me the tape.”

A man has to stand by his words. Martin decided to raise the price on the spot: “$5,000.”

“Kid, are you crazy?” Max pointed at him. “The fine for reporting this is only $5,000!”

Instead of refusing, he was haggling over the amount. Martin realized Max was about to break, so he raised the stakes again: “My new boss has a friend who’s a freelance journalist. If I call the police, Channel 3, which covers Atlanta social news, will get a copy in no time.”

He pointed at Harris: “I don’t know the law. Tell me, Mr. Max, besides the fine, will you need to post bail? Will you have to pay for a lawyer? The free lawyers from the ATL Legal Aid Society—there’s a months-long wait, you know.”

Max was about to blow his top.

Martin pressed the advantage: “You might even go to jail. If the sentence is a bit longer, will your beautiful wife divorce you? Will she take your assets and find a new boyfriend? Not bad, actually—someone to look after your wife and raise your kids…”

“Enough! Shut your filthy mouth!” Max spun around and kicked the Cadillac’s tire. “Martin-Davis, you’re too vicious to be called human!”

He took a pen and checkbook from the car. “$3,000! That’s all you get! If you ask for a penny more, I’ll fight you to the end! And hand over that damn tape.”

Martin needed time to make a copy of the tape for Eleanor, so he took three $1,000 checks and said, “I’m broke. I’ve never seen checks this big. Come with me to the bank to transfer the money. As soon as the transfer’s done, you get the tape. There’s a Bank of America branch nearby.”

Max snarled, “Don’t try any tricks!”

Martin said, “Honesty and trustworthiness are my principles.”

After crossing the intersection, there was a bank branch less than a kilometer away. Harris got up, ignored his bike, and walked with Martin.

Max moved the broken bike aside, got in his car, and followed.

With the big checks in hand, Harris forgot all about his broken arm and couldn’t help saying, “How was my acting? At a film festival, I’d have an eighty percent chance of winning Best Actor.”

Martin shot him down immediately: “Too exaggerated, too superficial.” He took out his phone and called Eleanor: “The video’s fine, right? Good! When you’re done, bring the original tape to Bank of America.”

At the Bank of America branch, Martin and Harris each opened an account. During the process, Martin stepped out to retrieve the camcorder.

When the check transfer was complete, in the waiting area, Max watched the recorded video on the camcorder’s small LCD screen, then took out the tape and stuffed it into his bag.

The video happened to capture the moment the bicycle entered the frame and the Cadillac hit it.

The angle was clearly chosen deliberately.

Max asked, “Did you make any copies?”

Martin snatched back the camcorder, feigning surprise: “This thing can make copies?”

Max stared at him, not noticing anything unusual, then stood up. “Don’t let me see you two again.”

Martin said, “Don’t worry, I don’t want to see you either.”

Max left the bank, got in his car, and slammed the steering wheel. “Shit!”

Those two bastards—sooner or later, they’ll pay for this.

The Cadillac started up and drove down a quiet side road. Max got out, pulled out the tape, and used a lighter to burn it to ashes.

Starting tomorrow, he’d hire a driver for a while, just in case it happened again.