@hiippocratic
The film is developed and exchanged for cash, entirely under the table with no knowledge of client or location whatsoever. This is a service Francis Dolarhyde has offered for some months now, for cash only -- and a lot of cash at that. Itâs an effort to avoid the paper trails of banks and transactions, money withdrawals, firearm purchases, vehicle repairs, license plate replacements, and vehicle rentals.Â
          Doing the bidding of the Great Red Dragon -- and Becoming a Dragon in his own right -- would never come cheap.
          After work, Francis carries the developed photographs to their designated mail slot on a nondescript city street. His thoughts linger on the subjects of the photographs themselves: a body found discarded, and the same corpse collected, prepped for medical procedure. Itâs clear the one who took the photos is not the one responsible for the death. There is no violence about them, no attention nor boasting of the act of murder itself. Francis wonders what the photographer wants, how they found his service, and where they might be now.
          And abruptly, Francis neednât wonder any longer than that. A man with an envelope stops half a block up the street. Francis glances out the corner of his eye, spots that usual envelope tucked under the stranger clientâs arm. He feels both nervous and elated that their paths have crossed, and the mixed reaction churning in his belly keeps him quiet while he deposits his own envelope.
