The Mercator Trail (Zeppos - Het Mercatorspoor)

We've now come to a standout piece, lot number 50.

18 YEARS AGO

The piece you've all been waiting for.

A fantastic piece. Adorned with maps from 1570

and remained in the possession of master cartographer Mercator until 1594.

Exceptional about this work are also the gilded edges.

It's a collection of maps with a masterful precision that was far ahead of its time.

And for this lot, we start at 30,000 euros.

I see 30,000 at the front. 30,000 to the man in the turtleneck.

The atlas!

Captain.

Is that the atlas?

Come on. Step on it. - Dammit, Zeppos!

Come on!

Are you okay, Captain? - Eyes on the road.

Hold on!

ZEPPOS THE MERCATOR TRAIL

PRESENT DAY

Hi, Benji!

DRUNK HOUSEWIVES CLUB

Hey, Benji. - Good morning.

Hi, Benji.

Thanks. - Bye.

We're settling your father's estate today.

There you go.

So once I sign this, that means he's...

officially dead?

Legally speaking, your father has been dead for over ten years, Mr Kurrel.

This is strictly about your inheritance.

And why did my mum refuse it?

Sometimes the next of kin won't accept that the person isn't coming back.

We often see that in prolonged missing persons cases. And your mother...

It killed her.

I know. - And now you're eighteen...

so you are authorised to sign.

Right...

And this is what it was all about.

There we are.

ATLAS by G. MERCATOR PUBLISHED IN 1570

What did you expect, Benji?

Just some old junk.

No junk.

Beautiful authentic book.

Shit.

Sorry.

Come on.

It doesn't accept foreign cards.

Thanks.

And erm... what class you got now?

Severijns.

Oh. Fancy that. Me too.

You're doing archaeology?

Yes, I'm a free student.

So you're free to go, aren't you?

Slien?

Severijns is off sick. It says so on the timetable.

Nice try, Kurrel, but class is happening.

Shit.

Look at it this way. You're free too now.

Yes, free to go to the library.

The library? - Yes. I need to work on my paper.

Hold on. Are you writing a paper about old books?

No, this is one of my sources.

You can do research online. Wikipedia has sources, too.

Tell you what. I'll help you. But...

At an outdoor café. My shout. - No, Benji.

Do you know who those online sources are?

Anyone can write things on there.

By the way... I happen to have an old book like that at home.

I bet that pickup line works every time.

I mean it. Take a look.

My dad collected that sort of stuff.

Anyone can grab that photo off the internet. - Whatever.

Shit. Er... Sorry, don't mind the mess. I'm still settling in.

Does your father work at a museum? - No, he used to be a geologist.

Collecting was his hobby. - And you didn't inherit his interests?

Unfortunately, I've had to make do with his irresistible looks.

An atlas by Mercator?

Is he famous then?

Famous? He's the man who mapped the whole world.

All world maps we use today are based on his techniques.

Do you want it? I have no use for it.

But... you will have to buy me a beer in return.

I wish I had a dad like yours.

You mean a father who disappears off the face of the earth before you're even born?

Awesome dude.

I didn't know about that. - No worries.

I'll borrow it.

As in 'we'll have to meet up again so you can give it back'? That kind of borrowing?

Don't get any crazy ideas, Kurrel.

Leaving already? Can I offer you a drink? I've got...

Milk.

Good for the bones.

Maybe some other time.

All right.

Yes, the lock's gone. Drilled out, I think.

No, it will need a completely new lock.

Can you get here asap, please?

Thank you.

Hello.

Ben Kurrel? - Benjamin.

Right.

Did you call for a locksmith? - Wow, you're fast.

Yes.

Not much traffic.

Who let you in? - Had a party?

I wish. I was burgled.

Yes... They turned the place inside out.

Did anything get stolen?

No. It's odd. They've left everything. My computer, monitors, tablets...

I mean... Anything of value?

They are of v...

Sorry. - Sure.

Yo.

This is the locksmith. You called earlier about an emergency?

I didn't write down your house number. We can be there in half an hour.

Mr Kurrel? Can we meet you in half an hour?

Hello?

I hear that nowadays burglars have an interest...

in antiques.

Even in old...

books.

Who are you and what do you want?

Young man, what you are holding there rather awkwardly, is a kirpan.

A lovely piece but merely ceremonial.

So by no means sharp.

Don't.

I said...

don't.

Oh.

Sharp after all.

I'm calling the police. - Let me introduce myself.

My name is Zeppos. - Whatever. Still calling the police.

The burglars were looking for one of your father's books.

An atlas. Medieval, leather cover? - How do you know about that?

Did they take it? - I lent it to someone.

To whom?

Slien.

Come on.

Come on, Slien. Pick up, pick up. Come on, Slien.

Pick up.

Slien!

Slien!

Slien!

Kurrel? - Oh, thank God.

What are you doing here?

Is it so hard to answer your phone?

I was reading.

I was burgled. They wanted the book. I was afraid they'd been here, too.

Do they know I have it?

Oh right, they don't.

What was that?

They do now.

Sorry.

What the fuck.

This way. - My monowheel.

Leave it. - Oh, shit.

Oh, sorry.

Sorry.

Benji.

Fuck.

Excuse us.

Faster.

Who were they? - Bigger book freaks than you are.

Here, I don't want it anymore.

Shit, that obviously only works in movies.

Oh no.

Shit, shit, shit.

Faster.

Faster, faster.

Can't she go to the library like everyone else?

This way.

Jump in.

No way. Come.

Who was that? - No, no, no.

Jump in, I said. - Come.

There's no door. - In the back.

Slien. - Benji, who is he?

Who is he?

Give me that atlas. - How much is it worth then?

What a fool is willing to pay for it.

Good thing I put it for sale online then.

The burglars aren't after money. - Whatever. Let's go, Slien.

Come on. Push it up. Turn it. - How does this thing work?

There's a handle on it, so why pull it?

Right. - No, no. Hold on.

If you want it so badly, you'll have to tell me why.

Look...

Not only did Mercator create that atlas. He kept it his whole life.

So it's worth even more?

Mercator left small comments in some of his books.

Annotations. Crumb trails. - A crumb trail to what?

May I?

Take a good look.

A sheep.

No. The Golden Fleece.

This is from a Greek myth, right?

Correct. The fleece of a golden ram.

You believe that really exists?

Follow me.