Story code: ST-001295
Part 2: The Price Tag on the Proof
Arthur kept his hand firmly on the phone cradle, his knuckles white. “No phone calls to corporate. We do not involve the network’s legal department. This must be handled quietly, within the family. Toby, back away from the console.”
Leo stepped between his uncle and the desk, his eyes darting between the clock-now showing 3:45 PM-and Arthur’s tense face. “Arthur, if someone is trying to extort us, corporate legal has the resources to handle it. They have private security firms on retainer. Why wouldn’t we want their help?”
“Because legal will freeze everything permanently!” Arthur argued, his voice rising an octave. “They will audit our production files. They will search my personal emails. Do you want your show suspended for months while a bunch of corporate lawyers comb through our private lives?”
I looked down at the glossy headshot still resting on the Soundcraft board. I flipped it over. On the bottom left corner of the back, a small, white adhesive label was affixed to the paper. It bore a printed barcode and the text: “Hollywood Memorabilia & Vintage, $4.99.” The price tag was clean, showing no signs of aging.
“Leo,” I said, pointing to the label. “Look at this.”
Leo leaned in, squinting at the barcode. He slowly raised his eyes to meet Arthur’s. “Uncle Arthur, you said the blackmailer sent you a picture of this photo from your personal archives. Why does it have a price tag from a vintage store on Hollywood Boulevard?”
Arthur’s jaw tightened, and he quickly snatched the photo from the desk, shoving it into his coat pocket. “They obviously bought it to make a point! They wanted me to know they could find my likeness anywhere. It’s a psychological tactic.”
“A psychological tactic?” Leo repeated, his tone shifting from anxious compliance to quiet skepticism. He crossed his arms. “You told me they had access to your personal files. This photo was selling for five dollars yesterday in a tourist shop. And look at the signature. The silver ink is smudged, but it’s fresh. I can still smell the metallic marker.”
Arthur took a step back, his eyes darting toward the computer screen showing the upload progress bar at seventy-eight percent. “You don’t understand how these people operate, Leo. They are trying to rattle us. We cannot risk the broadcast. If you don’t cancel it now, I will walk out on the family syndicate entirely. I’ll pull my sponsorship.”
“We can resolve the sponsorship issue with the network representatives,” I said, picking up the receiver again as Arthur’s hand slipped off the cradle. “I’ll dial the corporate compliance hotline. They will document the threat and verify the burner number.”
“I said stop!” Arthur yelled, his hand shooting out to grab my wrist. He pulled back immediately when I met his gaze, his chest heaving as he realized both Leo and I were watching his frantic movements. “We don’t need corporate. We can just… we can negotiate with them ourselves. I’ll text them back.”
Leo stared at his uncle, his expression hardening. “If they are blackmailing you, why are you so terrified of the network’s security team finding out who sent the text?”