The Logan Files - Pain Center: The Logan Files

by Marshall Huffman

  “Help out? What exactly are you talking about?”

  “Just some new ideas and any additional equipment that you would like to see added,” JJ said.

  “How much do you intend to spend?” she asked.

  “For ideas?”

  She laughed, “No, for the expansion and equipment.”

  “Ah. The expansion will run around 100K. I don’t know about equipment but I’m willing to put whatever it takes into it,” he said.

  “I see. Yes, I have several things I think you should add if you want to really improve the place,” she said.

  She shoved a chair out from under the table with her foot.

  “Sit and I’ll give you my thoughts.”

  “That would be very kind of you,” JJ said, being overly appreciative.

  He sat down and waited. She was watching a couple of young women on the stage and didn’t talk for several minutes.

  “Alright. Pay attention. You need a couple of cages in different sizes. You have no way of hanging a slave from the overhead. Nothing is better than have them fully extended. The audience will enjoy it immensely. You should consider electrical play. Do you know what a Tens Unit is?” she asked.

  “I have no clue.”

  “There are several types but I like the wands the best. They send a mild shock to the part of the body it is placed on or near. Some allow you to vary the intensity. It’s a very handy device to get the attention of your slave,” she said with a gleam in her eyes.

  “Are they dangerous?”

  “No, not really. They only use milliamps. Not enough to cause any real damage but it certainly gets their attention. I used a cattle prod on one subject but found it to be too powerful. There is a fine line between real pain and pleasurable pain,” she said confidently.

  “I see. What else?”

  “Well, I have a much broader range of discipline tools. Leather straps are very effective along with buggy whips. They are cheap but are very persuasive,” she replied, “I would like to see you enlarge the stage a bit. Can that be done?”

  “Anything can be done. I’m open to any ideas you care to share with me. I want to have the finest club of this type in the Midwest,” JJ assured her.

  “Alright then. You need more room between the tables. Right now I have to let my slave sit in the chair because of the space. I don’t allow them to sit at the table at my place of business. I prefer them to be on the floor at my feet like the worthless animals they are. They do not deserve to sit across from me,” she said without a hint of embarrassment.

  “More room between the tables,” he wrote on the notepad.

  “Maybe a dog food dish. The kind that holds water on one side and food on the other. I prefer to use those,” she added.

  “Got it,” JJ replied, writing the suggestion down.

  She shrugged and said, “I think that’s about it from my perspective. Everything else is very nice. I went to that disgusting Shackles to check it out. It’s nothing more than a pig sty. I would like to get the owner in my place for a few hours. He damn sure would come away with a different attitude,” she said sternly.

  “You know Delia …”

  “Mistress Delia,” she corrected.

  “Alright, Mistress Delia, I am thinking of starting a monthly newsletter. A list of upcoming special events, planned changes, special theme nights, that sort of thing. One of the things I would like to do is to include an interview with a member of the month. You know, a little about their background and just a Q and A section. Does that sound like something that would be accepted well?”

  “Yes. I think that adds a very nice personal touch. It would be a way of telling the other members about their selves without making it seem like you were trying to get something from them. We always have to be careful that people aren’t trying to take advantage of our lifestyle. It doesn’t bother me but others are very concerned. I think it would break down some barriers,” she said.

  “Excellent. I know this is a lot to ask but would you be willing to be the first person featured as the member of the month?” he asked.

  “I guess I could do that. It would only be available to the members, correct?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Sure, I could do that. When do you want to do it?”

  “Soon. I really would like to get this started right away,” he said, trying to remain calm.

  This would be the second time the ploy worked.

  “I’ll have to let you know when. I have a very active business. Are you the one doing the interview?”

  “It would definitely be me,” JJ said.

  “I’ll call you at the club and leave a message or let you know the next time I come in,” she told him.

  “That would be great. The sooner the better,” he said.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, starting to watch the stage again.

  “Thanks for your time, Mistress Delia,” JJ said, standing up.

  “Yes. You can go now,” she said, dismissing him.

  He had to work to keep from smiling. She thought she was the Master but soon she would find out who was really in control.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “What’s the latest?” Logan asked Harold who was sitting at one of the computers.

  “Here is the website for The Cave,” he said, pulling it up.

  Along with pictures of some of the goings on and the usual hype about how exclusive it was and all that it offered, was the membership price list.

  “Not exactly cheap,” Harold said.

  “I’ll say. Seven hundred and fifty for a couple and four hundred for a single woman. I wonder how many members he has,” Logan said.

  “That’s in here someplace,” Harold said, scrolling down the page.

  “Here it is. According to this, he says they have forty-five couples and eighteen single memberships.”

  “Damn. That’s what…close to forty grand for that alone,” Logan said.

  “Closer to forty-one thousand,” Miles said.

  “Close enough for government work,” Logan replied.

  “Yeah and if a member brings an additional guest it’s another hundred and fifty for the one visit,” Harold added.

  “Then the food and drinks. I’ll bet he charges a premium for that as well,” Miles said.

  “No doubt. He has a captive audience,” he said keeping a straight face.

  “Captive audience,” I get it, Miles said.

  “By the way, where are Carlson and Sorenson?” Logan asked.

  “After the information on Varner came in they went to see the DA to ask him for a search warrant for the storage facility and garage. They should be back any time now.”

  “We need to check out Amy Becker’s place as well,” Logan said.

  “What do you want me to do in the mean time?” Miles asked, “You want me to come along to the Captain’s office?”

  “No, I want you to read the entire website and check out any links attached,” Logan said heading to Dixon’s office.

  “Come,” his big voice boomed.

  “We just got back from Amy Belker’s apartment. The good news is we recovered a packet of matches from The Cave. It matches the one I found at Donna Lander’s house,” Logan informed him.

  “Excellent. So at least there could be a common link between Lander’s and Belker,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

  “Good chance. Sorenson and Carlson are getting a warrant to search Bobby Varner’s as we speak.”

  “That the guy that was found last right?”

  “Same one.”

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you,” Dixon said, rubbing his chin.

  Logan knew that whenever he did that it was seriously bad.

  “The Mayor called the Commissioner. The Commissioner called me. Seems the CNN guy has lodged a complaint about the way the briefings are handled. He would like to discuss it with you.”

  “The Mayor?”

  “Yes. The Commissio
ner made it clear it was out of his hands but that he supported your position.”

  “That and twenty bucks will get me a quarter tank of gas.”

  “I know. I know.”

  “Alright. I’ll take care of it.”

  “How?’

  “You don’t really want to know,” Logan said.

  The Captain knew damn well what he meant but wasn’t going to push it any further.

  “Just be careful and do it soon.”

  “I will to both,” Logan said, “Now, I’ve got work to do.”

  “Go forth and prosper,” the Captain said, giving him the Vulcan sign from Mr. Spock.

  Logan returned it and went back to see what the team was doing. He got there just as Sorenson and Carson came up the stairs.

  “Did you get the warrant?” Logan asked.

  “Right here,” Sorenson said, patting his jacket pocket.

  “Good. Miles, did you find anything interesting on the website?”

  “A lot of weird crap but I did find a chat room. Actually that’s probably not what you call it. More of a message board kind of thingy.”

  “Thingy?” Harold said.

  “Hell, I don’t know what you call it. Give me a break, I don’t do this shit,” Miles said defensively.

  “Take a chill pill man, it wasn’t a put down,” Harold said.

  “Sure. Whatever. Anyway, I got all kinds of messages for both Donna and Amy. Some of them pretty graphic.”

  “They were posted by name?” Logan asked.

  “It took a while but eventually I was able to get who they were really addressed to,” Miles said.

  “I don’t follow,” Logan replied.

  “Take Amy Belker. At first the messages were addressed to Sublime. A bunch only addressed her as Sublime, obviously her alias. Then later she must have told someone her name because the name Amy B. starts showing up in the messages. Then the last few actually call her Amy Belker.”

  “How do you know this Sublime and Belker are the same person?” Logan asked.

  “I worked backward. Once I ran across the name Amy Belker I just went backward until I came across the alias of Sublime,” Miles told him.

  “What about Landers or Bobby Varner?”

  “Landers just went by Donna L. Only a few messages showed up. Nothing like Amy’s messages.”

  “Can you find out who was sending the messages?”

  “I can try. I’m not the right person for this kind of thing. Maybe Harold or one of the computer experts should take a crack at it. I could screw something up,” Miles said.

  “Harold?”

  “I’ll give it a try but I can’t guarantee anything.”

  “If you get bogged down, call Pinhead,” Logan said, referring to the computer whiz that they used for such information.

  “Nothing on Varner was listed. Maybe he was someone’s whipping boy and wasn’t considered important enough.”

  “Or he went by another name.”

  “There is that possibility.”

  “Alright, keep working on it, Harold, while we go search Bobby’s place,” Logan said.

  “See ya when I see ya,” Harold said turning his attention back to the computer.

  “I have one other thing to take care of. It will only take me a minute” Logan said, “and then we’ll follow you,” Logan told Sorenson and Carson.

  * * *

  “Mayor Burch’s Office. How may I direct your call?”

  “This is Detective John Logan. I need to have a quick word with the Mayor.”

  “Just one moment, I’ll see if he is available.”

  “Thank you,” Logan said, playing over what he intended to say.

  “Mayor Burch. That you John?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I know. You’re all pissed off because of the CNN fellow, right?”

  “In so many words, I guess you could say that.”

  “I don’t blame you one bit. Little prick barged in like he was King Tut or some such thing. Bottom-line is I told him I would talk to the Commissioner. I did, end of story as far as I’m concerned.”

  Logan was taken aback.

  “Didn’t expect that huh?” Burch reading the silence.

  “Actually, no. You screwed up a perfectly good speech I had been working on,” Logan confessed.

  “John, if it was anyone but you, I might have tried a different approach. That, and the fact that I didn’t like the prick in the first place. So, unless you feel the need to pontificate, I’ve got a ton of work to do.”

  “That sure does it for me,” Logan said.

  “One thing. Getting close on the brain eater?”

  “Things are definitely taking a turn for the better. We are starting to get some good leads.”

  “Excellent. Go get the bastard and don’t give another thought to that CNN guy,” Burch said.

  “Thank you sir.”

  “My pleasure,” he said ringing off.

  He walked out to where the others were waiting.

  “What happened to you? You look like you just saw a ghost,” Miles.

  “I don’t really know what just happened. Strangest damn conversation I have ever had with the Mayor. I wonder if the invasion of the body snatchers is going on.”

  “Yeah, but they cut the brain out and remove the organs. Did the Mayor have his brain?”

  “I think so. At least I am amazed at the way he responded,” Logan said.

  “Well, this all very amusing but we should go. We do have a job to do,” Sorenson pointed out.

  “Right. You lead, we’ll follow,” Logan replied.

  “Onward and upward,” Carson said as the started out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  JJ was searching for his next victim. So far he had not been able to reach the level he had intended. He needed someone that could withstand the entire procedure.

  What he was after was still eluding him. He was hoping that Mistress Delia might just be the right one. Mistress. What the hell was up with that? Master. Mistress. It was like some elaborate game. Well, Mistress Delia, he thought, I wonder how tough you will be once I start to apply the electrical shocks to the brain. How long will you last? You see yourself as one mean bitch. What will you be like after I have worked on you for a few hours? I’ll bet you will beg for mercy, Mistress Delia.

  While he knew the general location on the pain centers, each person had proven different so far. The synchronization of the brain and stimuli on the body was critical. The calibration of the two was paramount for the success of his research and so far no one had been able to live that long. Even that wimp Bobby hadn’t last long enough.

  JJ was both angry and perplexed. He went online and ordered a slew of books that described the functions of the brain. He looked for the ones with the latest findings. He was going to have to do much more research if he was going to get keep someone alive long enough to carry out the experiment to its final conclusion. He decided to take a hiatus until he had more knowledge and, of course, lured in his next victim. The beautiful but arrogant, Mistress Delia.

  * * *

  Logan and the team arrived at Bobby Varner’s rundown two-story house on the outskirts of the southwest side of town. A patch of shingles was missing from the roof. The yard had junk laying all over it and the fence was just barely hanging in places. It wouldn’t keep anything in or out. Tape was holding a broken pane of glass in place. The steps were skewed and part of one was missing. All in all, it was a real fixer-upper.

  “Guy had class,” Miles observed.

  “No doubt about it, he took pride in his pad,” Sorenson added.

  “Doesn’t look like we will need a key. The door is about to fall off the hinges,” Carson observed.

  The inside was worse than the outside. Dirty clothes were strewn everywhere on the floor, couch, and chairs. A pair of underwear was laying on the crate that was being used for a coffee table. The couch was broken down and had cigarette burns in the cushions in several places. A
small TV was perched on a milk carton and had the old fashioned rabbit ears with aluminum foil attached to them.

  “How in the hell did a guy who lives like this afford to join The Cave?” Miles asked.

  “Maybe that’s where all his money went,” Logan said. Okay, let’s split up. Gloves on and if you find something important, call me. I’ll start in the kitchen. Miles you take the bedrooms downstairs. Carson and Sorenson, you guys see what’s upstairs.

  The kitchen was much like the rest of the house. The refrigerator looked like it had been painted with a paintbrush. The stove had peeling paint and the table was chrome and laminate with only one chair. It was clean, however, unlike Belker’s apartment. It was simply old. It looked like a relic from the depression era.

  There was little food in the refrigerator but the inside was kept clean. Logan expected to find nothing but beer. Instead he found eggs, milk, and vegetables. A Playboy magazine was open on the counter but other than that it was just a normal kitchen. He noticed a door and opened it. It led down to the basement. He felt for the light switch and finally located and flipped it on. He went into the basement and was amazed at what he saw. The floor was Berber carpet and looked new. A leather couch and chair were positioned against one wall. The pictures on the wall were tasteful. On another wall was a large plasma TV screen. An expensive surround system was built in as well. It was so out of place considering the outside and upstairs. There was a small wet bar on the remaining wall. Logan walked behind it and looked around. Most of the bottles of liquor were quarts rather than fifths, indicating they had come from a bar rather than a liquor store.

  A box full of The Cave matches was sitting on the lower shelf. It was the one thing that tied the three murder victims together. He finished up looking around and went back upstairs. Sorenson came in the kitchen just as he came through the door.

  “Basement?”

  “Quite some basement. A lot of high end electrical equipment, most of it state of the art,” Logan said.

  “Really? Well, it is the one place that has anything of value. He must spend most of his time downstairs.”