Blondie said, “Ooooh!”
Jesse let Darnell away from the bulkhead.
“Suit, sit him down somewhere, and keep him there,”
Jesse said.
“Boy, Chief Yokel,” Blondie said. “You’re really quick.”
“Maybe Mr. Darnell is really slow,” Jesse said.
“Any time you want to play with your handcuffs . . .”
Blondie said and giggled.
Jesse heard Molly make a small sound.
“First we’ll search the boat,” Jesse said.
He and Molly started down the stairs.
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“Did I hear you snicker, Officer Crane?” Jesse said.
“You might have, Chief Yokel,” Molly said, laughter bub -
bling beneath her voice.
“Well, as long as it was a respectful snicker,” Jesse said.
“Absolutely,” Molly said.
Wearing gloves and carrying evidence bags, they went stateroom to stateroom together. Jesse never split a search. It was Jesse’s view that two people searching the same room made it less likely that either would miss something. The videotapes were right where Jesse had left them. There were two more. He took the tapes, including the empty substitute that he had substituted, so everything would look kosher.
“There is a selection of controlled substances here,” Molly said. “Some weed. Some, I assume, coke. Couple of other things I’d need help with.”
“Pack it up,” Jesse said.
“We going to arrest them for possession?”
“I might find it useful as leverage,” Jesse said.
In the night table of the master cabin, Jesse found a Browning Hi-Power and a box of shells. He took the pistol and left the shells. In the crew quarters he found a shotgun.
He left it. Most boats had a long gun aboard. He didn’t think it would do much for him. They confiscated a video camera.
They found sex toys in most of the staterooms. There were several vibrators, some anatomically correct. Molly turned one over in her hands, looking at it from all angles.
“When I was in parochial school,” Molly said, “we weren’t 1 4 0
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allowed to wear patent leather shoes, for fear someone might look up our dress in the reflection.”
“I was always hopeful about that,” Jesse said. “But I never saw it work.”
“But it probably kept you alert,” Molly said.
“I don’t want you sneaking home with that thing,” Jesse said.
Molly rolled her eyes at him, and put the vibrator back where she found it.
“Ah, the stories it could tell,” he said.
“What exactly is this,” Molly said.
“That’s a ball gag,” Jesse said, “and those are restraints.
Fetish toys. You can order them on the Internet.”
“Ick,” Molly said.
“You and hubby don’t use those?” Jesse said.
“There are times, I think, he might want to stick that gag in my mouth,” Molly said. “But not during sex.”
“Irish Catholic girls have sex?” Jesse said.
“When we go bad,” Molly said, “we go way bad.”
When they were through the search it was midway through the afternoon. Jesse made an inventory of what they’d confiscated, in duplicate, and signed it. Then he called Hardy on the cell phone.
“What did you take?” Darnell said, when they reached the deck.
“Stuff,” Jesse said. “Uncuff him, Suit.”
Simpson unlocked the cuffs on Darnell. Jesse separated 1 4 1
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the two sheets of his inventory and handed the carbon sheet to Darnell.
“You can’t take the tapes. They’re private property.”
“We’ll need you to come in and do a lineup,” Jesse said.
“All of you. Crew as well. We’ll arrange a date and get back to you.”
“Those tapes aren’t even mine. Somebody left them on board. I don’t even know what’s on them.”
“We’ll take a look, let you know. Meanwhile, if you leave the harbor I’ll have the Coast Guard impound the boat.”
“I want a lawyer,” Darnell said.
“Sure, when you get one, tell him you are suspected of forcible rape. In fact, all of you are suspects.”
“Those aren’t my tapes,” Darnell said again.
“Have a swell day,” Jesse said, and waited at the rail while Molly climbed down to join Suit in the harbor boat.
“Can the Coast Guard impound his boat?” Molly said as they headed back through the moored boats toward the town pier.
“I don’t know,” Jesse said. “I probably ought to ask somebody.”
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30
K elly Cruz sat at the bar of the Boat Club, at the marina, near the causeway in Fort Lauderdale, sipping a Diet Coke. The bar-
tender was maybe twenty-two, and red-haired. He wore small blue oval sunglasses with blue lenses. He had on big shorts and a white tee shirt that said big red on the front.
There was some sort of choker around his neck.
“Why you wanna know about Mr. Ralston?” the bartender said.
“What is your name?” Kelly Cruz said.
“Brick,” he said.
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“I’m Kelly Cruz,” she said, and showed him her badge.
“Tell me about Mr. Ralston.”
“You’re a cop?”
“I am.”
“What’d he do?”
“I understand he lives on his boat in this marina,” Kelly Cruz said.
“I don’t know where he lives,” Brick said. “But he’s in here a lot.”
“Seen him lately?”
“No, I think he went up north to some boat racing thing.”
“You remember all your customers?” Kelly Cruz said.
“The ones tip like Mr. Ralston,” Brick said. “Plus he’s a really cool dude, you know. I mean, no offense, but he comes in here with some of the most bodacious-looking women, hoo hah!”
“Hoo hah?” Kelly Cruz said.
“You know,” Brick said, “bada-bing! Excellent.”
The bar was mostly empty. There were a few people scat -
tered at tables in the glass-walled room with the turquoise light from the ocean coming in on two sides. Outside on the deck, several other tables were occupied. A waitress moved among them with her tray.
“Know any of them?”
“The babes that hang with Mr. Ralston? Just to say s’happenin’.”
“Are any of these women here now?”
“No.”
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“Does Mr. Ralston have anyone, like, steady?”
“Naw,” Brick said. “Guy like that doesn’t do steady. He just hooks up, you know? Blonde one night, brunette the next.
No flames, no games. No hellos, no goodbyes. No aches, no pains. Just slam bam alakazam.”
Brick grinned.
“You admire Mr. Ralston,” Kelly Cruz said.
“You bet. He’s leading my life, instead of me.”
Brick slid a saucer of mixed nuts within Kelly Cruz’s reach.
“But I’ll get there.”
“Everybody needs a dream,” Kelly Cruz said.
“Want me to freshen up that DC?” Brick said. “Wedge of lime, anything?”
Kelly Cruz shook her head.
“Know what Mr. Ralston does for a living?”
Brick grinned wider.
“I think it’s maybe just slam bam alakazam,” he said.
“You ever been on his boat?”
“I have, in point of actual fact,” Brick said. “Worked a private party for him one night, tending bar. That was tough, baby. That was an absolute groove.”
“Wild party?” Kelly Cruz said.
“I mean, I don’t want to c
ause anybody any trouble,” he said.
“Just gathering information,” Kelly Cruz said. “I don’t care if there was a little blow being snorted.”
“Blow? Yeah, I guess so, and booze, and mara-joo-wanna, 1 4 5
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
sure. But it was the sex thing, man, everybody doing everything with everybody and the video cameras rolling, and . . .
whew! I was afraid for a time there, I was going to lose my cherry.”
He smiled broadly.
“Know any of the people on the boat?” Kelly Cruz said.
“Not really, you know, ‘hi, howya doin’. But Courtney does.”
“Courtney,” Kelly Cruz said.
“The waitress,” Brick said. “Right over there. I know she hangs with one of Mr. Ralston’s girls. You wanna talk with her?”
“I do,” Kelly Cruz said.
“Hey, Court,” Brick said. “Come talk to the nice lady for a minute.”
The waitress came to the bar.
“I got half a dozen tables, you idiot,” she said to Brick.
“Nobody’s at the bar,” Brick said. “They need something I’ll cover it.”
Courtney frowned. Her face was so blank that the frown looked as if it had hurt to perform.
“No offense, ma’am. How can I help you?”
Kelly Cruz showed her badge.
“Kelly Cruz,” she said.
Courtney said, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Call me Kelly. Just a couple of girls gossiping.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
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“You know Thomas Ralston?” Kelly Cruz said.
“Mr. Ralston?”
“Un-huh.”
“Everybody knows him,” Courtney said. “He comes here a lot.”
“Do you know any of his, ah, girls.”
“His girls?”
“I heard,” Kelly Cruz said, “you hung with one of Mr.
Ralston’s girls.”
Courtney made her frown face again, and looked at Brick.
He grinned at her.
“You know, Court, the one with all the hair,” he said.
“Mandy.”
Kelly Cruz looked at Courtney and waited.
“Mandy,” Courtney said. “Yo, I know Mandy.”
“And she’s, ah, friendly with Thomas Ralston?” Kelly Cruz said.
Courtney looked back at the tables she was waitressing.
No one was looking for her. She looked at Brick. He smiled and shrugged.
“She dates him sometimes,” Courtney said after a time.
“Un-huh,” Kelly Cruz said. “You ever date him?”
“Me? Oh, God no. I’m in college.”
“Mr. Ralston doesn’t date college girls?”
Courtney struggled with her face. Kelly Cruz waited.
“No . . . I don’t know,” Courtney said. “I’m not the kind of girl he dates is what I mean.”
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“What kind of girl does he date?”
“Not like me,” Courtney said. “He’s been around too much, you know? I like guys my own age. He’s too . . . he’s too sexy.”
Kelly Cruz nodded.
“I’d like to get in touch with Mandy. Could you give me her address, please.”
“I don’t want to get her in trouble,” Courtney said.
Kelly Cruz nodded.
“I’ll need the address, Courtney.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes, honey,” Kelly Cruz said, “you do.”
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31
I can’t watch those tapes with Molly,” Suitcase Simpson said.
“I’m all right with it, Suit,” Molly said.
“I’m not,” Suit said. “I’d be too embarrassed.”
“Okay,” Jesse said. “No need. If you have to see them you can watch later on your own.”
Molly and Jesse watched the tapes. They were predictably repetitive: sex, showers, changing clothes. One tape was of Cathleen Holton doing a drunken clumsy embarrassing strip on the deck. The tape continued with her having sex with Darnell, during which she was clearly willing, in fact eager, and clearly inept.
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“Oh God,” Molly said, watching Cathleen. “The poor thing.”
Jesse nodded. The tapes ground on. Many women. Several no older than Cathleen Holton. Jesse counted five other men besides Darnell. Two of them Jesse had seen aboard the Lady Jane. He wondered if the men knew they’d been videotaped.
“There’s no bathroom stuff,” Jesse said.
“Just the showers,” Molly said.
“Doesn’t fit the fantasy,” Jesse said.
“I guess not,” Molly said.
On the screen another young girl was climbing into bed with Darnell.
“Jesus Christ,” Molly said.
Jesse froze the frame.
“I know her,” Molly said.
“Local girl,” Jesse said.
“Katie, Kate DeWolfe. She’s in school with my oldest.”
“Which would make her how old?” Jesse said.
“Fifteen.”
“Under age.”
Molly nodded. They both stared at the frozen image of the girl.
“Which gives us another handhold on Darnell,” she said.
“Doesn’t prove he killed Florence Horvath,” Jesse said.
“Proves he’s a bad man,” Molly said.
“We knew that.”
“What in God’s name will I tell her mother?” Molly said.
Jesse didn’t say anything. They both looked at Katie De-1 5 0
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Wolfe for another moment. Then Jesse pressed play, and the videotape unspooled relentlessly. The tapes seemed infinite.
Blondie Martin took her turn. They watched all day and when it was over had not seen Florence Horvath.
They sat silently when the last scene had played and the last tape had rewound. There was nothing to say. They didn’t look at each other.
“I may never have sex again,” Molly said after a time.
“I know,” Jesse said.
“You’ve probably seen worse,” Molly said.
“Yes.”
“But . . .”
“It’s the quantity,” Jesse said.
“Yes,” Molly said. “That’s what it is. The women become interchangeable. They are just parts. Nipples and pubic hair.
There’s no . . . there’s no . . .”
Molly stopped and shook her head.
“Humanity,” Jesse said.
“Yes. Nothing human is happening. Do men find this exciting?”
“I don’t,” Jesse said.
“Not for a minute?”
“First ten seconds, maybe,” Jesse said. “More anticipation, probably, than anything.”
“Those tapes shouldn’t exist,” Molly said. “Am I a prude?”
“We had to watch it,” Jesse said. “Not everybody does.”
“So you’re saying it should exist.”
“Most people, I’d say if you don’t like it, don’t look at it.”
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“It’s worse than that,” Molly said. “I don’t want it available to anyone who wants to look.”
“Not my area,” Jesse said. “But my guess is that it would probably do more harm to try and prevent it.”
“Censorship and all that,” Molly said.
“I don’t mind censorship,” Jesse said, “long as I get to be censor.”
Molly smiled.
“Yes. I know. But damn . . .”
“Consenting adults,” Jesse said.
“Not all of them,” Molly said.
Jesse smiled.
“There’s that,” he said.
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32
K elly Cruz sat with Mandy Morello at an outdoor table outside a bakery a
nd deli
near the Marriott Marina Hotel. Kelly
Cruz was drinking coffee. Mandy was having a Pepsi-Cola and eating some sort of napoleon and smoking a cigarette.
“Is sex against the law?” Mandy said.
“Not for consenting adults.”
“How about posing for nude pictures?”
“Not for consenting adults.”
“Okay,” Mandy said. “What would you like to know?”
“Does being one of Mr. Ralston’s girls involve sex and nude pictures?” Kelly Cruz said.
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“Sure,” Mandy said.
She wiped whipped cream off her upper lip.
“Tell me about that,” Kelly Cruz said.
“That give you a charge?” Mandy said. “Hearing about it?”
Kelly Cruz sighed.
“Mandy,” she said. “I’m a fun person, just like you, but I am also a cop investigating a homicide, and I would just as soon not fuck around with it too much, okay?”
“Whoa,” Mandy said. “Kelly, I didn’t mean anything. It’s just how I talk.”
“Sure,” Kelly Cruz said. “Tell me about life with Thomas Ralston.”
“Well, ah, what can I tell you. He parties.”
“With you?”
“Sometimes with me.”
“Sometimes with others?”
“Sure.”
“One at a time?” Kelly Cruz said.
Mandy rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Not always,” she said.
“Other men involved?”
“Sometimes.”
“Are we talking about gang bangs here, Mandy?”
“Sometimes.”
“Willing?”
“Willing? Oh, sure, willing. Of course, it’s all in fun. Somebody doesn’t groove on that. Fine. Don’t party. You know?”
“What about the nude pictures.”
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“Oh those,” Mandy laughed and stubbed her cigarette out in the remains of her napoleon. “Tommy got it all rigged on his boat, cameras in the bedrooms, all hooked to a VCR.”
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