by Dale Mayer
“And, if it was part of this stalker group, don’t you think they would have taken these photos with them?”
“That’s one probability, yes,” he said. “If it were me, I would. But I guess it’s possible he didn’t see it, although a fair bit of destruction is in the bedroom, so it’s most likely he did see it but probably didn’t understand the relevance.”
“But that’s assuming again,” she said, “that he isn’t part of this or one of those names.”
“But maybe he saw it as more of a trophy wall, or maybe he saw it more as something the cops would blame the dead guy for.”
“That’s possible too,” she said. “So many possibilities but nothing that’s even slightly solid.”
“That’s our life,” he muttered.
Finally they heard the front door open, and Fallon looked up to see Quinn, slipping back inside. “Did you find her?”
“Yeah, and I did talk to her, but she wasn’t too interested in talking to me about it.”
“Until you turned on the great charm?” she teased.
“Well, if you say so,” he said. “She did eventually open up, but it took money to make her talk.”
“Right,” she said. “So, when charm doesn’t work, money always does.”
Such a note of bitterness was in her voice that Fallon looked at her. He said, “You know that people are people, all over the world.”
“I know,” she said. “So, Quinn, what did she have to say?”
“They had a fight over this door of photos apparently,” he said, pointing at it. “She thought they were having a relationship, until she saw the back of his door, and then she kind of lost it on him.”
“Did he give her any explanation?” Fallon asked.
“Yes, he did. According to her, he said that he was just taking photos of her for a friend.”
“But she didn’t believe him?” Fallon asked.
“No, not only did she not believe him but it was the reason for their breakup.”
“But she came back here to apologize,” Linny added.
“Yeah, she said that he was a nice guy and that she was willing to give him a second chance.”
“Even though he was photographing another woman and had photos of her on the back of his bedroom door?” Linny said, frowning.
Quinn just nodded.
“Okay, that sounds pathetic,” she said.
“Unless he convinced her that what he was doing was for real,” Fallon said.
“Maybe.” Linny frowned at that. “It’s still far-fetched though.”
“Which is why she broke up with him,” Quinn stated. “But now she’s thinking about it and can’t come up with any other excuse, so she’s back to giving him a second chance.”
“And he didn’t give her any ideas as to who wanted the photos?” Fallon asked.
“She did give me the name of who it supposedly was.” He held up a small notebook, where he’d written it down.
“Interesting,” she muttered, looking at Fallon. “Keith Talbot.”
“Did she say where he lived?” Fallon asked Quinn.
“Apparently he’s in the same building.”
At that, Fallon wanted to finally shout out in joy. “Perfect. Whereabouts?”
“Two floors up,” he said, as he grinned at him. “I figured you’d want to come.”
“Hell yeah, I want to come. Let’s go,” he said, as he took one last look around. “I don’t think we need to come back here, do you?”
“I think we need to check out this Keith Talbot before anybody else gets wise to what’s going on. Then we can decide if we want to come back or not to Ben’s apartment.”
“Right.”
With that, they all three headed out, closing the door quietly behind them.
Chapter 6
It was such an odd experience to be creeping through the hallways, at night, on this secret mission. Linny was used to being up all night long anyway, particularly after having done her years in medical studies. Yet this felt so different. She was already over the fact that this young man had died, particularly after she saw the photos of herself on the back of the door. She didn’t want to be crass or unfeeling, but it was hard to be sympathetic for somebody who had obviously been stalking her for years. That he died in a very strange and unknown way just added to the mystery.
As they made their way up two more floors, she said to the men, “So how will you get this guy to talk to you?”
“It’s amazing what people will say when they’re threatened,” Quinn replied.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said in alarm. “No threats here.”
“Yeah, so what do you propose?” Fallon asked. “How will you get him to talk?”
She stared at him nonplussed. “I have no idea.”
“Well, maybe that’s something you need to think about,” Quinn said. “Because we need answers, and this guy is obviously involved.”
They walked down the hallway and seemed to be closer to the penthouse up here with far fewer doors. As if each apartment were much bigger.
“Interesting,” she said. “The bigger places are up here. He probably has money.”
“Most likely, at least some money,” Fallon said. “That just adds credence to the story that the neighbor lady gave us.”
As they approached the apartment in question, it opened suddenly, and a man emerged, dragging several large suitcases out in a hurry. Outside the door, seeing the two big guys, he stopped and froze. In a panic he tried to jump back inside and close the door, but his suitcases tripped him up, and he ended up on the hallway carpet.
Immediately Quinn and Fallon stationed themselves on either side and helped him to his feet. They brought the man and the luggage back inside, and, with her inside with them, they shut the door.
“Planning on going somewhere, Keith?”
He looked at them frantically, from one to the other. “I don’t know who you are,” he said, “but I have a plane to catch. I have to leave.”
“Well, I’m sure a plane will be the first one out in the morning, but I highly doubt it’s flying anywhere right now,” he said.
“I have to go!” he said.
“And why is that? Maybe because your friend downstairs is dead?”
He stopped and stared, and Linny could almost see the fear ripping through him.
“I didn’t have anything to do with that,” he said. “I don’t know anything about it.”
“And what about the woman who said Ben was taking these photos for you?” Fallon asked, his voice hard.
The man’s face literally turned white, ash white, as all the color slipped away. “I don’t know anything about that,” he cried out in a high-pitched voice.
“Meaning, you didn’t hire Ben?”
Keith shook his head, then he nodded, then he shook his head, as if he were unsure of the right answer.
“Just give us the truth,” Quinn said, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “The truth, please.”
“Ben was obsessed with her,” he said. “Ben was obsessed with everything about her.”
“And?”
Linny realized that Keith hadn’t actually seen her because she stood slightly behind Fallon. Keith was so focused on the two men that he hadn’t noticed her.
“Why her?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know. He was obsessed.”
“And do you even know who she is?”
“Some broad,” he said. “I mean, she was a good looker and all that.”
At that, Linny stepped forward, her hands on her hips, and said, “Me, by any chance?”
He stared at her and started babbling incoherently.
She looked at Quinn. “Well, I don’t usually get that kind of reaction.”
With that, the guy burst into tears, sank to the floor, sobbing.
“I presume he thinks he’s in trouble.”
“Oh, yeah, he’s in trouble all right,” Linny said.
“But if he d
idn’t kill that Ben guy—”
“I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill him,” he said in this endless litany. But he stared at her now, as if he couldn’t pull away his gaze?
Fallon immediately stepped in front of her and said, “Don’t look at her.” The guy quickly dropped his gaze and nodded.
“What is going on here?” she cried out. “What the hell is this?”
“You’re just so beautiful,” he said.
“Were you part of the stalking scenario?”
He stopped, hesitated, and then said, “I just wanted more pictures of you.”
“Why?”
He looked at her in surprise. “To look at.”
She stared at him for a long moment, hating the implications sliding through her mind. “Okay, so you wanted pictures, and he didn’t get enough for you?”
“No, no, he was hiding a bunch, and he wanted me to pay for them.”
“So he was taking pictures of me, and you wanted more, but he wanted to sell them, is that it?” She felt dirty all over again, as he nodded frantically. “So … what? He didn’t want to sell them, or you didn’t want to pay?”
“Well, I was paying,” he said. “I have money. I could pay. That’s why he asked. I figured it was better if it was a business decision anyway.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Well, because then I would have some legal standpoint, as far as ownership.”
They all just stared at him.
“Okay, so they were just pictures,” he cried out. “There was nothing illegal about it.”
“So, why don’t you take your own pictures?”
“Because I’m really bad around girls,” he said. “They won’t even talk to me.” His voice was so gloomy that she almost wanted to laugh.
Almost.
Fallon said, “So he was just taking pictures, and you weren’t expecting Ben to kidnap her or anything like that?”
He looked at him in horror. “Oh, my gosh, no, no, no, no,” he stammered. “She’s beautiful, but I would never want to hurt her.”
“Maybe, but lots of people have different versions of what hurt actually is.” Even as Fallon spoke, Linny stared at him in shock.
“I hadn’t even considered that,” she muttered.
He nodded. “So back to you paying Ben for photos. Did you kill him when you realized he was blackmailing you for more photos?”
“I didn’t kill him,” he said. “I told you that.” Such earnestness was in his voice, almost like he was simplistic in his belief that these men would listen and would believe his story.
She stared at him in surprise. “If you didn’t kill him, did you pay him for the photos?”
“Yes,” he said. “I did. Several times.”
“The photos were that important?”
He nodded. “Yes,” he said. “They’re beautiful.”
“Okay, so he was a photographer?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” he said in surprise. “But isn’t that why you’re here, because of his photos?”
“You actually believe he’s a photographer?” Quinn asked, studying the man in front of him.
“Yes, that’s what he was,” he said. “He had photos all over the place.”
“He may have had photos,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean he’s a photographer.”
“Well, he was really good,” he said. “Really good.”
“Okay, so what does really good mean?”
“Well, he was phenomenal,” he said. “He was even getting people to do galleries for him.”
At that, they stopped, shared a glance, and asked, “Did he have a warehouse or a workshop or a place of work, other than his apartment?”
The guy nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes,” he said, and he gave them the address.
“Did he have a job?”
“Yes,” he said and gave them the company and his boss.
“So what forums and social media did he visit?”
“Just an art forum,” he said. “He was really heavily involved in that.”
“By the way,” she said. “How much did you pay him for the photos?”
“Oh,” he said. “Thousands.”
She stopped and stared at him. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted,” she said, with a note of humor.
He looked at her in surprise. “Well, you haven’t seen the nice one,” he said, and he headed to his bedroom. When they didn’t follow, he said, “This way, come on.”
So, with Fallon leading the way, she stepped in behind him, into Keith’s bedroom where a huge picture of her was blown up, the quality only somewhat bearable because it was such a large print.
“It’s so unfocused,” she said. “How can you even stand it?”
“It was the closest he could get.”
“Yeah, you’re supposed to have permission from the people in your photos,” she muttered.
He looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“You can’t just take photographs and blow them up of people like this,” she said. “You’re supposed to have permission, from the model.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, maybe that’s why it’s so blurry. He said he was having trouble getting you to sign the paperwork.” He looked at her in such distress, as he said, “Couldn’t you just do that?”
“Why?”
“Because he has so many more photos of you,” he said. And then he started rubbing his hands together. “If I got the forms for you, would you fill them out?”
Shocked, she took several steps back, wondering how she’d fallen into such a strange Alice in Wonderland tunnel. She looked at Fallon, who was studying the man in front of them.
“Why don’t we go check out the rest of these addresses you’ve given us,” he said. “Also why were you running out the door?”
“Because he’s dead,” he shrieked. “He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead.”
“And that means what?”
He stared at them in shock, looking surprised. “Well, if he’s dead, what if somebody’s coming after me?”
“Did you do something wrong?” Quinn asked.
“No, of course not,” he said.
“So why do you think someone’s coming after you?”
At that, the guy stopped, stared, and said, “Oh, do you think I’m okay then?”
“I don’t know,” Fallon said. “What I do know is that this guy was involved in some other stuff, and that’s why he got killed.”
It was like watching a cartoon, almost, as this guy understood that he wasn’t in any danger.
He just smiled and let out a big sigh and said, “In that case, I’m going back to bed.”
He ushered them toward the front door. “Go, go, go,” he said. “It’s been a very exhausting day.”
“You think?” Fallon said, under his breath, but she heard him.
She turned and looked at Keith and said, “Thank you for the help.”
He beamed. “You sure you won’t sign those papers?”
“I think you’ve got enough photos of me,” she said, and, with that, she stepped out into the hallway. Once outside, she turned to look at Fallon. “Was that for real?”
“Oh, it was for real all right,” he said. “I can’t imagine who all these other guys are that Ben’s been sending photos to.”
“I wonder if this Keith guy knows that other people have the same pictures.”
“I don’t know,” Fallon said. “How are you feeling? Knowing they’ve got these photos and all, I mean.”
“It’s disturbing,” she admitted. “But I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about it.”
“Well, hopefully we can get to the bottom of this,” Quinn said. “And you won’t have to do anything.”
“I like the idea of that,” she said. “That big one, blown up in the bedroom, was just—because it was so distorted and blurry, I can’t imagine anybody even wanting it hung up.”
“That’s what’s puzzling abo
ut all this,” Quinn said. “I don’t know what group this is that he was contacting and sending these photos to. Do you suppose the photos are all like this one?”
“I don’t know,” Fallon said, “but, if they are, that says something. Where does one find somebody like this Keith guy?”
“A mental hospital,” she said immediately.
“Which nobody else gets access to, correct?” Fallon asked her.
She nodded. “Correct, at least in the US.”
“Right,” he said. “So who’s to say about it over here?”
“Right, but you would hope that somebody hospitalized has confidentiality,” she said, “no matter what country they are in.”
“Which, as we all know,” Quinn added, “is something that can also be taken care of, if people have enough money.”
“Back to that whole money thing again,” she muttered.
“Absolutely. So now what?” Quinn asked Fallon.
“I suggest we either head home, or we check out a couple more of these addresses.”
“Well, I suggest,” she said, “that we just keep going. No point in heading home for a break when we’re actually finding stuff now. Every step of the way we’re getting something new.”
“Well, that’s true enough,” he said. “So let’s keep going then.”
“Says you,” she said, with a smile.
“You don’t want to go?”
“Oh, I still want to go,” she said. “Pull up the address for his darkroom, and let’s see how far away we are.”
“Not far,” he said. “Just around the corner.”
“Let’s go,” she said. “Let’s see what this sicko guy’s workshop looks like.”
“You won’t freak out?”
“At what? More blurry photographs? No,” she said. “Definitely not. You really don’t think that guy Keith is in any danger?”
“I don’t think so,” Fallon said. “But who knows? I’ve been wrong before, and this whole situation hasn’t followed the typical patterns yet.”
*
They got back into the vehicle and quickly drove to the new address, which literally was just around the corner. They could have walked here, but they didn’t want to leave the vehicle too long in one place. As it was, just enough anger was building in his head that Fallon prided himself on having maintained the amount of calm he already had. Because, up until seeing all those photos of Linny gathered on one door, he’d thought this was something distant, basically commonplace. But seeing those photos, he realized some seriously creepy element was involved. The fact that the photos were all blurry, he wondered if that was a stylized effect that somebody had deliberately gone for, but it made somewhat better sense to him. Either way, the whole thing was just wrong.