by Brian Parker
◦ ◦ ◦
I was glad to see that The Digital Diva followed city and state laws requiring the customer to declare that they understood what they were doing; less paperwork for me. ED aerosols were relatively harmless, but long-term debilitating effects such as the loss of libido and sterilization had been reported. Thanks, late night television for forcing me to memorize that statement.
Kelly’s opposite hand came into view, causing me to wonder if the self-cleaning also got rid of smells or only the substances on the surface. I’d have to ask Paxton Himura that question. She flexed her wrist and a small puff of mist sprayed into Wolfe’s face. He inhaled deeply and smiled.
Somewhere nearby, music began playing. The music was the same techno crap that they played at the thumper clubs elsewhere on The Lane. The room whirled through the camera’s lens and the view became slightly disorienting as Kelly danced slowly for him at first and then began a frenzied pace. Her view bobbed up and down, the picture across the way becoming indistinct with her movements.
I felt my stomach lurch once again and ran to the sink in the kitchen. “Andi, pause,” I grumbled and waited for the crap in my stomach to come up.
The watery feeling in my mouth never materialized, but I stood there for an extra minute to make sure. The sensation of nausea subsided. Maybe I need some clean water in my system instead of coffee.
Two glasses of water and three aspirin later I was ready to go back to the video. I sat back roughly into the dining room chair. “Resume playback.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to take it easy for a few hours, boss? You can view these video files any time.”
“I’d love to take it easy,” I replied. “But this killer is out there, without anyone on his tail. I can’t afford to take the day off.” That jogged my memory. “Wait, don’t I have something going on tonight?”
“You are scheduled for your weekly dinner with the Khalil family at 6 p.m. tonight.”
“That’s right. I want to get this video reviewed and my notes in order so I can relax with Amir and Amanda.”
The speaker set into the dining room wall emitted Andi’s equivalent of a sigh. “Resuming playback now.”
“Thanks, Andi… Hey, I promise I’ll take it easy, alright?”
“Okay. I don’t want to hear you complain when you come down sick from exhaustion.”
The video began playing once again and I tried to let my eyes relax and not focus on any particular item. Fixating on the picture frame had caused me to get nauseous the first time.
◦ ◦ ◦
After a few minutes, the droid stopped dancing and stood, turning her body slightly and then her head so Wolfe’s smiling face came into view.
Kelly turned away from the john and bent at the waist. A soft crtch noise filled her speakers as she unfastened the straps of her garter belt and they swung into view. She slowly looked at Wolfe around the right side of her hips. His eyes were wide and the camera jiggled slightly for a moment.
Then, she stood up and faced him, tossing her panties at his head. He snatched them and ran the material along his cheek.
“You know what I want,” Kelly ordered.
“Yes…yes,” he pleaded.
◦ ◦ ◦
I watched the top of his head and hairy back for a while as he attempted to pleasure the robot. It was as if he thought she were a real person and would need him to do something like that—unless that was part of his fetish. Maybe it heightened the sexual pleasure for him to go through the complete experience.
Kelly moaned and pretended to orgasm, pulling his head up and holding it against her stomach. Her hand caressed his hair and then she pulled him up gently for more kissing. She led him by the hand to the desk and bent over, the wall mere inches from her nose as Wolfe began to thrust inside of her.
I stared at the wall in front of Kelly, watching in bored fascination as the pattern in the wallpaper became apparent. The factory-produced crosshatch of material weaved together to form the paper that covered the drywall underneath. Every sixth strand of fiber was a muted brown to offset the cream color of the rest of the pattern. I’d never thought about what a woman saw when she was in the position that Wolfe had her in. It wasn’t too exciting.
I checked the timestamp. Charlie had been at it for eight minutes. I refocused on the wall in time to see her view shift. Kelly twisted around and laid her back flat against the desk as Wolfe’s red face came into view. Sweat poured from his head, running down his cheeks. The hair on his chest was matted and pressed flat against his body. Disgusting.
He stepped back up to her and both of Kelly’s stiletto heels came into view as she rested her ankles on his shoulders. Wolfe’s head went back and forth in rhythm with his body’s motion and his teeth were bared in animalistic concentration. Finally, he threw his head back and grunted his completion, even howling a little at his own triumph. The ceiling came into view and then moved side to side. She must have been wiggling her hips against him to milk every last drop.
◦ ◦ ◦
“That was amazing, baby,” Kelly said breathlessly.
“Thanks. You were pretty damn good yourself,” Wolfe replied. I cringed when I heard him pull out of her with a wet, sucking sound.
“Ugh, so tired,” he grunted. “I need to sit down for a second. Can you turn the shower on for me?”
She sat up and watched Wolfe lay on the floor.
◦ ◦ ◦
I sat up in the dining room, mimicking her movements. Wolfe lay exactly where Paxton had found his body. This was the moment that I’d been waiting for.
◦ ◦ ◦
“Of course, Charlie. Do you want me to bathe you tonight?”
“No, I need to get back to Jackie and help her close down the shop after the tournament is over.”
“As you wish,” Kelly said as she stepped over Wolfe’s supine form and padded softly into the bathroom. She opened the door and turned on the shower, then closed it gently.
She turned the corner from the bathroom toward the couch and picked her panties up off the arm where Wolfe had left them. She walked slowly to where Wolfe lay naked and straddled him. The angle appeared as if she were staring at his face, but reaching through her legs to play with him. “Do you require anything else tonight, baby? You still have an hour and a half on your credit and it’s non-refundable.”
“Nah, I’m good—you’re good. I gotta go back home.”
“Alright. I’ll see you next time.” She bent forward and kissed him deeply on the lips, cupping his face in her hands.
Then Kelly stood and went to the door. Her hand appeared and her fingers wrapped around the knob. She paused for a moment and then went into the hallway, still holding her undergarments. She walked down the hall until she came to a door marked “Environmental Sanitation.”
A technician, wearing what appeared to be full protective gear with a mask met her when she walked in. “Station four,” he said in a bored voice.
Kelly walked past several naked droids in various stages of showering and drying off to a shower stall and bent down to remove her red stockings. She straightened up and her hands appeared at the bottom of the screen as she unfastened the front-clasp bra. The droid dropped all of her clothing into a hamper that the tech had rolled over.
◦ ◦ ◦
“Call Paxton Himura,” I ordered.
“Initiating call now.”
After a few rings, she answered. “Hello?”
“Paxton, Detective Forrest.”
“Good morning, Zach. Is everything okay?”
“Maybe. Please tell me that the laundry from Friday night hasn’t been cleaned.”
After a moment, she replied, “It’s been sanitized and already returned to the clothing dispensary for reuse. What’s wrong?”
“Dammit. There’s nothing we can do about it now. I’m watching the video footage of Wolfe’s session and wanted to examine Kelly’s clothing.”
“Why?”
�
�I’ve got a hunch that I may have missed some evidence on the scene. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“You’re no bother at all. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, thank you.”
“Alright. Goodbye, Zach.”
“Bye,” I said into the air as the phone disconnected. “Andi, resume playback.”
Kelly stepped inside the shower and the water began to pour on her head. Her eyelashes served the same purpose as a human’s, protecting her eyes and the view was mostly unobstructed by the water.
“Initiate cleaning protocol,”the technician ordered.
The camera became blurred. I assumed she was absorbing more of the water to clean out the subdermal reservoirs. Her toenails retracted and what looked like shit water came out and washed down the drain. Must be from Chuck’s special treatment, I mused. Finally, the toenails slid back into place.
The water trickled to a stop and thick globs of soap fell from above. Kelly washed her hair and then scrubbed her body clean, finally allowing me a glimpse of her body. No wonder Chuck liked her. When she was complete, the water turned on again and she rinsed herself clean. Then Kelly stepped out of the shower to take a towel off the hook.
The screen went black and a message appeared in yellow letters, “End of video submission for the investigation into the death of Wolfe, Charles R.”
I leaned back and looked at my notes. With the exception of details about the droid itself, the sex act seemed cut and dry, in and out—no pun intended. What the hell was I supposed to do now?
I was saved by the ringing of the phone. The caller identification said it was Paxton Himura. “That’s weird,” I said aloud. I’d talked to her a few minutes ago.
I answered the phone, “Hello?”
“Zach?” She seemed stressed.
“Yes?”
“Someone tried to break into my apartment right after I got off the phone with you. I need help.”
“Hold on. I’ll be right there,” I said, already moving toward the closet for my clothes.
“Thank you,” she replied and hung up.
“The rental car should be here in nineteen minutes, Zach.”
I shoved my legs through a pair of slacks and slipped my feet into an older, out of style pair of loafers since my Oxfords were waterlogged.
“What am I gonna do with the other eighteen?” I asked.
SEVEN: SUNDAY
The drive over to Venetian Isles took longer than I remembered. I tried to will the rental to drive faster, but the damn thing had a government-mandated speed regulator which forced it to go exactly the speed limit. I’d have to talk to the rental company about getting it disabled. As a cop, I needed the ability to get places fast. Since I’d lost the Jeep in the line of duty, I could borrow a black and white from the department, but that was the last thing I wanted.
The car itself was nice. My insurance company had sprung for a full-sized premium class car, a new BMW T-99, all leather interior, state of the art navigation system, platinum-accented accessories. It was top of the line, but I preferred the rugged look of my old Jeep; otherwise, I might have enjoyed cruising around in style. Before she died, my mother used to say that I had no class. I guess she was right.
The BMW dropped me off under the overhang for the Regal Apartments. Even the vehicle had more sense than I did; I’d told the Jeep to take the first available parking spot when I came by yesterday. I blew past the front desk manager and had the bellman run me up to the twenty-second floor.
I pounded on Paxton’s door and examined the outside while I waited. The metal doorjamb was bent near the handle and the paint scraped away on the door. I knelt and looked at the brass knob. There were obvious scratches in the metal around the keyhole. Those could have been from a clumsy B&E attempt or from years of tenants missing the hole with their key. If they’d tried jimmying the lock, they were unsuccessful and that’s why they’d resorted to the crowbar in the doorjamb technique—crude, but usually effective.
A small monitor at chest height emitted Paxton’s voice, “Who is it? I’m calling security again if you don’t show yourself.”
I stood up so she could see it was me. “Sorry, I was checking out the damage to your door.”
“Oh, Zach! Hold on.”
Three different locks disengaged; one at both the top and bottom and one in the center. No wonder the perp hadn’t been able to break in with a crowbar. She opened the door and threw her arms around me.
“I was so scared,” she cried into my chest. “They wouldn’t go away. Security couldn’t catch them.”
I wrapped my arms around her awkwardly and felt a familiar hard object on her hip, under her shirt. “Do you have a permit for that?”
She leaned back away from me. “Of course. I follow the law to the letter, Detective. Without laws, and good men like you to enforce them, we’d have chaos. The Lord knows New Orleans is only a few steps away from that path.”
“Heh,” I grunted in agreement. “Do you know how to use it properly?”
It was a dumb question and I felt like some stupid Neanderthal the moment it left my lips. “I go to the range once a month. I’m shooting expert by the club’s marksmanship standards up to one hundred and twenty feet, but it drops off considerably after that.”
Damn, that’s better than what I shoot. I’m only an expert out to ninety feet. “Well, I’m here now, so you don’t need it.”
She smiled up at me. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather keep it with me.”
I shrugged, “It’s your choice and as long as you’re properly trained and licensed, I don’t mind.”
She invited me in and closed the door. “Thank you for coming. I didn’t have anyone else to call.”
“It’s okay. I had a few more questions to ask you after viewing the video from Kelly this morning anyways.”
Paxton indicated the sofa. “Okay, ask away.”
There was a small suitcase on the floor and a large duffle bag on top of it. “Going somewhere?” I asked, pointing at the luggage.
“I can’t stay here,” she replied. “Not if someone is trying to break in.”
“Where are you gonna go?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a hotel,” Paxton said.
“How long do you plan on doing that?”
“Until you catch this guy.”
“That’s going to be ridiculously expensive.”
She nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah. I can afford to stay for a little while and then, if this keeps going on, I have another option.” Paxton shuddered.
“What is it?”
“Thomas Ladeaux, the guy who owns the Diva, has told me on more than one occasion that I’d always have a place to stay with him. But I doubt his offer is purely humanitarian in nature.”
“I know the guy. You’re right; he’s hardly the philanthropic type.”
“Yeah, well that’s my only option.”
“You don’t have any girlfriends you could stay with?”
Paxton shook her head. “I had lots of friends growing up, but they all seemed to fade away after I started working at the Diva. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t one of the call girls; to them, everyone who works there is a whore. I can’t stay with my technicians, most of them are married and the ones who aren’t are downright creepy, so I wouldn’t trust them.”
“You trust them more than Tommy Voodoo though, right?
“If I had to rate them on a linear scale, then sure, but it’d be pretty close.”
My stomach rumbled audibly. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten yet and there was a…an issue last night.”
Her eyes fell to her lap. “Oh, your girlfriend?”
I laughed at her statement. “I wish. Most women can’t keep up with the hours that I put in at work. Besides the overnight calls, I also have to do most of my interviews during the day when the rest of society is awake.”
“I know how you feel,” she mumbled insecurely as she fiddled with the trim on a pillow
.
“So… I was gonna say, I could take you to lunch and then to your hotel. I need to ask a few questions that came up during the video review, but nothing that we can’t discuss in public. Besides, the Pharaoh is about as friendly to cops as you could get.”
“The Pharaoh’s Tomb?”
“Yeah, you heard of it?” I asked in surprise. Most locals avoided the place since it was so over the top with the Egyptian theme and usually crowded with tourists. Amir liked to treat police officers to free food, so cops loved going there and it also helped to keep the local pickpockets and two-bit criminals away from his restaurant.
“Yeah. I’ve eaten there once or twice. They have good shawarmas if I remember right.”
I made an exaggerated gesture of placing my hand over my chest. “Be still my heart, a woman who likes shawarma?”
She smiled at my theatrics. Whether it was in genuine amusement or in pity, I wasn’t sure. I’d take either. “Okay, are you ready to go, then?” I asked, standing.
“I, uh… You move fast.”
I held up my hands. “No, no. I’m sorry, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. Just lunch and a ride to your hotel.”
She stood and placed a hand on my bicep. “I wouldn’t mind,” she said, rubbing my arm slightly through my temporary rain jacket. “Can you help me with my bags?”
Paxton was impressed by the BMW. She went on and on about it for most of the trip from her apartment to the Pharaoh. I knew it was a nice car; apparently it was much nicer than I realized though. Way to go, Andi.
The car pulled into the parking lot and a twinge of uncertainty hit me. The Pharaoh’s Tomb was my go-to dining spot because Amir owned the joint. He’d inherited the place from his father. I didn’t go on a lot of dates—not that this was a date—but I was sure that the Pharaoh wasn’t the type of place to go on one.
The Egyptian-themed restaurant was borderline gaudy. Gold accents, statues and greenery seemed to be everywhere. All of the servers wore the same sleeveless white tops and knee-length white skirts, trimmed with gold and turquoise beads. The women wore straight black wigs and a lot of them even used heavy black makeup around their eyes. The only things missing from the Egyptian theme inside the building were mosquitoes and crocodiles.