The Reveal: A Detectives Seagate and Miner Mystery (Book 6)

by Mike Markel

  “The professor?”

  “Yeah, that Virginia. I want to take the fraternity down. Find me something.”

  Chapter 16

  A little less than an hour later, I was at my desk when Ryan called and asked me to come down to Jorge’s office. Jorge is our IT guy. He’s got two rooms in the basement. One is a climate-controlled closet filled with racks of computer gear—all the servers and stuff we use. The other is an office with a small desk in the corner and a long bench that runs along two of the walls. This is where Jorge fixes all our gear when it goes down.

  I hurried down to the office. Jorge was seated at his desk, which was stacked with papers and computer guts. He wore his usual outfit of Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and flip flops. Ryan was seated a few feet away.

  “What you got, guys?”

  Jorge hit a key on a laptop. The projector hanging from the ceiling threw an image onto the beige wall. It showed the Windows desktop. “This is a mirror of the computer from the fraternity.”

  Ryan said, “I logged the computer into Evidence.”

  “Okay,” I said. That meant we were going to be keeping it for a while, maybe that we were going to press charges of some sort.

  Ryan said to Jorge, “Show us a few seconds from the Mattress Room folder.”

  Jorge navigated to the directory. “There’s forty-eight files here.”

  “I don’t like the sound of this,” I said.

  Ryan’s expression was unusually somber as he turned off the lights and pointed to the wall. “Show one, Jorge.”

  Jorge opened the video player. The video was low-quality and dimly lit but steady. The angle suggested it was shot from a camera mounted up near the ceiling. The room was maybe ten by fifteen feet, empty. Nothing on the walls, no furniture. Except for a narrow pathway down the middle of the room, the floor was covered with mattresses.

  After a moment, the door opened and three people entered: two girls and a guy. They looked about twenty years old, dressed in jeans, long-sleeved shirts. Holding large plastic beer cups, they moved unsteadily, like they were pretty far gone. As they undressed, they were laughing, speaking in slurred voices that I couldn’t understand. Once they were nude, they got down on the mattresses. The guy lay on his back on a mattress; one girl straddled him and lowered herself onto his crotch while the other girl crawled on her hands and knees toward his head.

  “Okay,” I said. “Stop it. I get the point. Hit the lights, will ya, Ryan?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I wanted you to get a sense of what we’re dealing with here.”

  I turned to Jorge. “You said there’s forty-something of these?”

  “Forty-eight in this folder.”

  “And they’re all like this?”

  Ryan nodded. “They’re all explicit. One-on-one, two women and one guy, two guys and one woman, some one-on-one lesbian. Same location. There are about fifteen different guys over and over, but the women are mostly different.”

  “Do the women know they’re being filmed? I didn’t see either of these two look at the camera.”

  “I haven’t studied them all.” Ryan’s voice was soft. “But I didn’t see anybody looking at the camera.

  “Is our boy Martin Hunt in any of these?”

  “I didn’t recognize him, but that could just be the lighting.”

  Jorge said, “If you need to ID anybody—for forensics, I mean—we’re gonna need to go to a specialized place that does video analysis. We don’t have the top-tier software.”

  “Or the FBI,” Ryan said. “If we have an open case.”

  “Are there any more homemade videos?” I said.

  “There might be,” Ryan said. “There’s hundreds of gigs of stuff. A lot of it is commercial videos they copied onto the disk, but there could be more homemade files.”

  “We’re gonna want to talk with the chief, maybe bring in Larry, see how to proceed.” Larry Klein is the prosecutor. “Did you see anything yet about the case?”

  Ryan turned off the lights again. He spoke to Jorge. “Go to the browsing history.” Jorge opened the browser and pulled down the history. “That third one down. Called ‘Two Hot Lesbos Find Their Secret Spots.’”

  In a second, a video started. This video was handheld, low-res. “What are we watching here?”

  Ryan said, “It’s a porn site called CollegeGirlsXXX.”

  It looked like a typical girl’s bedroom in a cheap apartment. The camera operator focused on an unmade bed, rumpled. Two pillows. Into the frame came a young woman wearing a white T-shirt and panties. With her back to the camera, she took off her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She turned to face the camera, but it was focused on her breasts, cutting off her head. The camera panned down to show her removing her panties and lying down on the bed. She began to caress her own breasts.

  “Why are we watching this?”

  “Give it a second.” Ryan’s tone was weary, resigned.

  The camera swiveled back toward the door. Another woman entered the room. She was a little bigger than the first girl. More muscular. She had blond hair, straight and short, cut longer on one side than the other. She wore a bra and panties, which she removed slowly and theatrically. She lay on the bed next to the first girl. They kissed and giggled.

  “Is that …?”

  “Pause it, Jorge.” The video stopped. “The first woman is Krista.”

  “Holy shit.” I leaned in. It was. “Who’s the other one?”

  Ryan hit the lights in Jorge’s small office. He pulled a folder from his briefcase, opened it, and removed a photograph. He passed it to me. It was a headshot of a college girl.

  “It’s Abby Demarest,” he said.

  The name rang a faint bell. “How do I know her?”

  “From the meeting in the sociology department yesterday. She’s one of the students from Virginia Rinaldi’s course.”

  We thanked Jorge and headed up the stairs to the detectives’ bullpen to get our coats. I said to Ryan, “Any point in asking the chief if we can put a detail on Richard Albright?”

  “For threatening the student in a porn video?” Ryan took two steps at a time. At his age, I did, too.

  “Yeah.” My voice echoed in the stairwell.

  “No. He didn’t make a specific threat to harm her.”

  “‘Removing her like a cancer’ isn’t specific enough.”

  “I don’t think so. Maybe Larry can tell us.”

  We got our coats and rushed out to the Charger. Ryan told me Abby’s address and navigated me there. It was in a two-story frame apartment complex four blocks from campus. Unit 3 was on the ground floor. Ryan knocked. I put my shield around my neck.

  A girl answered. It wasn’t Abby. I introduced me and Ryan and asked if we could come in for a minute. She let us in and told us her name: Jennifer Taylor.

  “Sorry to bother you, Jennifer. When was the last time you saw Abby?”

  She ran a hand through her long dark hair. “It’s been … I don’t know. Two days. Maybe three?”

  “You two don’t hang out?”

  Jennifer shook her head. “Just roommates. I moved in in January.”

  I glanced over at the refrigerator. Hanging on the door was a little whiteboard with a handwritten list of chores for each of them to do. “Do you know if Abby has a boyfriend?”

  She took a moment to think. “Yeah, I think so. There’s this one guy comes around to pick her up sometimes.”

  “You know his name?”

  She scrunched up her nose. “Sorry.”

  “Could you pick him out if we showed you a picture?”

  She shook her head. “I’m in my room. I hear him knock. Then she shouts out to me that she’s leaving and she’ll see me tomorrow.”

  Ryan said, “Do you know if this guy’s in a fraternity?”

  “I think Abby told me once he is.”

  “Did she say which one?”

  Jennifer’s eyes were locked onto Ryan’s. “She might have. I can’t
remember. I’m not in that crowd.”

  He said, “Do you mind if I stick my head into her bedroom real quick?”

  She smiled. “Go ahead.” She pointed to the hall. “Second door.”

  Ryan left. I said to Jennifer, “Here’s my card. Would you mind giving me a call if you hear from Abby. It’s important.”

  “Is she in some kind of trouble?”

  “Not, not at all. We just need to talk to her about a case.”

  “Is it that professor?”

  Ryan came back and flashed her a big smile. “Thanks a lot, Jennifer.” She brushed a hand through her hair and returned his smile.

  Ryan and I left and got in the Charger.

  “That’s where she and Krista did the video.”

  “Any idea where Abby might be now?”

  He swiveled the laptop toward him and logged on to the university system. He hit a few keys, waited, then hit some more. “She doesn’t have any classes this afternoon. Want to head over to Alpha Phi Sigma?”

  I shook my head. “There’s nine fraternities. Could be any one of them. Besides, I want to let Martin Hunt worry a little more about what we found on the computer. I want him to think we’re trying to get his fraternity outlawed or whatever it’s called.”

  “Isn’t that what you’re trying to do?”

  “Hell, yeah. I think they’re a bunch of shits.” I looked at Ryan. “You don’t think so?”

  “I absolutely do. I just want to make sure we do it right. If we charge someone, I want it to stick.”

  “Okay, good. We need to find Abby. If Richard Albright’s gonna come after her for being a skank, I want to get there first.”

  “She could be a million places,” Ryan said.

  “Let’s go talk to Mary Dawson, tell her we know the identity of the girl in the video, see if she knows where she is.”

  We drove over to campus and went to the Dean of Students’ office. The receptionist said she was in an important meeting but should be back in a minute. We waited.

  Ryan said in a low voice, “You want to tell her about the videos we found on the computer?”

  I thought a second. “No. We don’t know that there’s anything illegal there. Plus, I’d like to keep that in my pocket in case we need it later.”

  In a few minutes, Mary Dawson walked into the reception area. She stopped when she saw us. “Detectives, did I miss an appointment with you?”

  Ryan and I stood. “No, not at all, Dean Dawson,” I said. “But we’d appreciate a minute if you can spare it.”

  She waved us into her office, and the three of us sat down.

  “Bad day?” I said.

  She frowned. “Trying to think if I’ve had a worse one.”

  “We’ve learned some things we want you to know about.”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “I have, too. You go first.”

  “We went over to Alpha Phi Sigma, talked to their president, a student named Martin Hunt. He confirmed they held a ‘Bye, Bye Virginia’ party last night. He didn’t see anything wrong with that. At this point, we don’t have any evidence a crime was committed, but we’re gonna keep looking.”

  “Fine. Good.”

  “And remember we told you earlier this afternoon about a student in a porn video on the Internet? And how Richard Albright told us he was gonna get rid of her?”

  Mary Dawson closed her eyes slowly, then opened them. “Abby Demarest.”

  I didn’t see that coming. “How’d you get her name?”

  “I just came from a meeting with the university counsel. Abby contacted the university, reported that she’s getting harassing calls and emails and texts. Some threats.”

  “From Richard Albright?”

  “From a number of people.”

  “She didn’t mention any names?”

  Mary Dawson shook her head.

  “And this is from the video on the porn site?”

  “I assume so.”

  “Our first priority is to ensure the student’s safety,” I said. “You’ll help us with that, right?”

  Mary Dawson rubbed at her temples. “You’re not going to like this. That meeting I just came from? The university counsel told me not to divulge her whereabouts. Under any circumstances.”

  “You know where she is?”

  Mary Dawson nodded.

  “This attorney—what’s his name?”

  “Arthur Vines.”

  “He understands we can do a better job keeping her under wraps than you can, doesn’t he?”

  “His position is that if we bring you in, we’ve lost control of the information. If it gets out, and anything happens to the girl, it’s on us.”

  “Way I look at it, if you bring us in, nothing’s gonna happen to her. It’ll give us time to figure out if Richard Albright is behind any of the threats—put a detail on him. And see if we can track anyone else who’s threatened her. That’s the best way to keep her safe.”

  Mary Dawson put up her palms. “I have to do what the administration orders me to do. Mr. Vines has assured me he has taken all prudent measures.”

  Ryan and I stood. “Will you get in touch with me—any time, day or night—if you learn about more threats to Abby? Or if the lawyer changes his mind?”

  Mary Dawson stood. “Of course, Detective. I’m sorry, my hands are tied.”

  On the drive back to headquarters, I said to Ryan, “Does the university have a right to withhold that information?”

  “My guess is, if there is no reason to believe the student is in imminent danger, they probably do.”

  “And if they’re wrong?”

  “If they’re wrong, they could end up looking irresponsible.”

  “And Abby Demarest could end up dead.”

  “That, too.”

  Back at headquarters, I checked my watch: 4:48. “Let’s see if we can catch the chief before he leaves.”

  We rushed to his office. He was straightening things on his desk before leaving for the day.

  “Chief, we need to get you up to speed on Virginia Rinaldi.”

  “Okay.” He sat in his desk chair and gestured for us to sit.

  “When we interviewed Richard Albright this afternoon, he made a vague threat against an unnamed student who he said was in a porn video on the web.”

  “I remember.”

  “We got her name: Abby Demarest. She was a student in Virginia’s course. She’s in a video with Krista, Virginia’s girlfriend.”

  “That’s interesting, isn’t it?”

  “Abby has gone into hiding. She contacted the university and told them she’s getting harassing and threatening messages and shit.”

  “Did you get her location from the university?”

  “They won’t tell us. Their attorney—what’s his name, Ryan?”

  “Arthur Vines.”

  The chief shook his head. “Don’t know him.” He scratched at his chin. “I’d feel a lot more comfortable if we could protect her ourselves.”

  “Me, too,’ I said. “Do you think we could call Larry and see if he knows how to get that information from the university?”

  The chief hit some keys on his computer, then picked up his phone to call the prosecutor. His secretary told him Larry was away on some other business. The chief asked her if she would have Larry call him at home tonight. It was important.

  “Best I can do at the moment.” The chief nodded. “As soon as I hear from Larry, I’ll get in touch.”

  “Thanks a lot, Chief. See you tomorrow.”

  Back at our desks in the bullpen, I saw a note from Robin, our evidence tech. It said, “You’ll want to see this.”

  I picked up my phone and called her. She was still there. She told us to come to her office.

  We went down to the basement. Her door was open but she didn’t hear us knock because she had her headphones on. I walked in, anyway.

  She felt the vibrations of my steps and took off her headphones. “Hey, Karen.”

  “You got something for
us?”

  “I think so.” She led us over to a long table along the wall. “Here’s the banner you said you were looking for.” She pointed to a computer printout, made of taped sheets of printer paper four feet long, that read “Bye, Bye, Virginia.”

  “Yeah, we figured. The shithead at the fraternity already admitted he did this.”

  “Here’s something I bet he didn’t already admit.” She reached for a sheet of paper with pieces of masking tape on the four corners. “This must’ve been stuck to a wall.”

  Written at the top of paper was the phrase “$/Fuck.” Underneath it was the number 500, crossed out. Under that was the number 250, also crossed out. The numbers got smaller, each of them crossed out. At the bottom appeared the number 50, the only number that wasn’t crossed out. I turned to Ryan. “What the hell is this?”

  He stared at it for a moment. “It means they hired a prostitute, paid her five-hundred dollars. After the first guy did her, the price per fuck was five hundred. By the time the tenth guy did her, the price per fuck was fifty bucks.”

  Chapter 17

  At 7:59 am, I hung my coat on the rack in the corner of the detective’s bullpen and walked over to my desk. Ryan was already working, already online. “Hey.”

  “Good morning, Karen.”

  “The chief get back to us about what Larry says we can do to find Abby?”

  “He didn’t get back to me.” Ryan hadn’t taken his eyes off the screen. He was young enough to do at least two or three things at once. Or maybe it’s only when he’s talking to me that he realizes he has some extra brain power he’s not using productively.

  “What’re you looking at?”

  “Porn.”

  “You don’t have a machine at home?”

  He smiled. “My wife’s always using it. You know, Tinder.”

  I had no idea what that was. I pointed to his screen. “Really, what are you doing?”

  “Did you know there are twenty-six million porn sites?”

  “You saying you’re gonna be here awhile?”

  “Worldwide, porn is a five-billion dollar industry. A third of all downloads are porn. A fifth of men watch porn at work.”

  “Like you’re doing now.”

  Ryan finally looked up at me. “I tracked down the distributors of the video with Krista and Abby. CollegeGirlsXXX is based in Chicago. I put in a call to them. Left a message.”