“No, and I’m glad we don’t if you can’t handle it any better than this,” Cassie said sharply. She knew what she said would cut her partner, but she needed Stone to get hold of himself before they went to Yarrow’s door.
She could tell her words had hit home because for a moment Stone looked stricken.
“All right,” he said at last. “I will contain my anger.”
“Good. Thank you.” Cassie took her hand off his arm. “Now come on and maybe you’d better let me do the talking.”
Stone gave a short, stiff nod.
“Agreed.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
Ten
Cassie knocked on the elaborately carved front door and, after a moment, it swung open revealing a hulking guy in a muscle shirt that showed impressive biceps and two full sleeves of tattoos. He was mid-to-late twenties, with buzz-cut black stubble on both his head and his chin, Cassie’s cop brain noted. Also, one silver tooth in front, which showed when he snarled,
“Whaddaya want?”
The hired muscle was over six and a half feet tall and would have been intimidating if Cassie hadn’t had Stone at her back. As it was, she simply pulled out her badge and showed it to the thug.
“I’m here to speak to Frank Yarrow,” she said calmly.
“Not without a warrant you’re not!” The thug tried to slam the door in her face, but Stone caught it with one hand and forced it back open.
Yarrow’s hired muscle, who was holding the heavy wooden door with both hands and leaning all his considerable weight against it to close it, looked up at Stone with a mixture of fury and disbelief.
“You…you can’t fucking…come in without a…a warrant!” he snarled, panting with effort as he tried to close the door.
“If you do not want us to come in, then send Frank Yarrow to the door.” Stone’s deep voice was low, but controlled, Cassie was glad to note. “Or better yet, send out The Beast.”
“Mr. Yarrow’s…not…here,” the thug grunted, still trying to force the door closed with all his might. Stone simply stood there, holding it open with one hand with no visible effort at all.
“They why are you?” Cassie demanded, frowning at him. “I have a hunch guys like Frank Yarrow don’t leave home without their bodyguards.”
“I wouldn’t call Brutus here my bodyguard exactly,” a new voice said.
Looking over the muscle’s shoulder, Cassie saw the same middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair she’d seen on Amelia’s phone. He was standing there calmly, sipping something bright green out of a martini glass and looking as cool as a cucumber.
“What is he then?” she asked, frowning at the man who had to be Frank Yarrow.
“Oh, just a friend I pay to look out for me—that’s all,” Yarrow said airily.
“Right. A bodyguard,” Cassie repeated. She flashed her badge at him. “Frank Yarrow, I’m Detective Cassandra Steel and this is my partner, Detective Stonev with the Tampa PD. We need to talk to you.”
“Now, officers…” Yarrow raised his free hand placatingly. “If this is about little Lucy Stein, I can assure you that she looked much older than fifteen. In fact—”
“Is the man who calls himself The Kindred Beast here?” Stone interrupted, his voice a low growl.
For the first time Yarrow looked surprised.
“Why no, I’m afraid he’s not, officer. Er…would you like to come in and check?”
“If your ‘friend’ will let us through,” Cassie said sarcastically. Because Brutus—who was clearly not the brightest bulb in the bunch—was still straining mightily to shut the door in their faces. His face was red and sweating with the effort but he couldn’t make any headway against Stone, who was still holding it open with one hand.
“Brutus, let the nice officers through,” Yarrow said amiably. “They’re just looking for The Beast and you know he’s not here.”
“We’ll see about that,” Cassie said as Brutus at last released his grip on the door and stood aside, panting heavily.
“Come right in. Feel free to have a look around,” Yarrow made an expansive gesture with the hand not holding the martini glass. “You’ll see that he’s not here—I haven’t even seen him or spoken to him all day, as Brutus here can tell you.”
“That’s a very convenient alibi, Yarrow,” Cassie snapped. “Especially since he’s wanted in connection with a murder that was committed earlier today.”
“A murder did you say?” Yarrow’s face went pale and surprised and Cassie—who made a living reading people’s faces—would have sworn that he was genuinely astonished at this revelation.
But apparently Yarrow’s surprised expression didn’t impress Stone.
“Where is he?” In a flash, he had Yarrow by the front of his shirt and was dragging him further into the house.
“I told you, I don’t know!” Yarrow gasped. The martini glass crashed and shattered on the marble floor, sticky green liquid going everywhere. “I haven’t seen him!”
“You are lying. You’re going to take me to him now,” Stone growled, in Yarrow’s face—which was slack with shock. “Now!”
“Hey, no! Lettim go!” Brutus shouted, racing after them. Cassie ran after all three men, her shoes grating on the broken glass shards. Damn it, what was Stone thinking? This was not a good way to handle this situation at all!
Stone was fast and by the time she got around the corner, she saw the big Kindred had dragged Yarrow into the downstairs bathroom. He had Yarrow by the scruff of his expensive-looking shirt and was shoving his head in the toilet bowl.
“Where is he?” her enraged partner was growling as he dunked Yarrow face-first in the toilet. “Tell me and I might not drown you. Where is The Beast?”
“Don’t…know! Swear…I don’t!” Yarrow gasped and burbled. Bright blue toilet water was trickling from his bedraggled salt and pepper hair down his red face.
“The fuck you don’t,” Stone snarled, dunking him again. “Talk, Goddess damn you! Where is he?”
Suddenly Brutus was pointing a gun at Stone’s head.
“Lettim go!” he yelled, his finger tightening on the trigger. “Let Mr. Yarrow go, you Kindred asshole!”
Oh God, things were spiraling out of control!
“Hold it right there,” Cassie drew her own gun and shoved it the bodyguard’s ribs. “Drop it,” she ordered grimly. “Or I’m going to blow a hole right through you.”
By now, Frank Yarrow had completely lost his composure.
“He’s not here, he’s not here! I swear he’s not here!” he was screeching at the top of his lungs—between burbling every time Stone dunked him. “But I’ll tell you…tell you everything I know. Just let…let me go!”
“Stone, stop!” Cassie yelled at the big Kindred. “Stop it and let him talk!”
At last her words seemed to get through to her partner. Stone stopped dunking Yarrow and let him sit up, trembling and shaking, beside the toilet bowel.
“Good,” Cassie kept her voice firm and calm, though seeing a gun pointed at her partner’s head was making her stomach squeeze itself into a nervous fist. “Now, Stone, you let go of Yarrow and Brutus, you’re going to hand me your gun.”
“The fuck I will,” the bodyguard snarled sullenly.
Cassie poked him harder with the muzzle of her own weapon.
“Hand it over,” she said pleasantly. “If I find out you have a permit for it, I’ll even give it back. I just don’t want it pointed at my partner’s head.”
“Do what the nice detective tells you, Brutus.” Frank Yarrow grabbed a swatch of toilet paper and blotted his face. “The sooner we talk to them, the sooner this will all be over.”
At last, to Cassie’s deep relief, Brutus pulled the gun away from Stone’s temple and handed it to her, hilt first. She snatched it and took a step back, putting herself out of reach while she kept her own gun on the bodyguard and Yarrow.
“Okay now, slowly, we’re all leaving the bathroom,” she ordered.
“Stone, come on—let Yarrow up.”
Stone’s eyes flashed but he released his grip on the porn producer’s collar. Yarrow climbed shakily to his feet and then all three men shuffled out of the bathroom.
“May I suggest we have a seat in my lounge?” Yarrow recovered quickly. He looked remarkably composed for a man who had nearly just drowned in his own toilet. “We can talk in there. It’s much more comfortable.”
“That will be acceptable,” Stone growled. “As soon as we search your premises for The Beast.”
“Go right ahead. I told you from the start you could.” There was a glimmer of resentment in Yarrow’s eyes but he kept his voice low and controlled as he spoke to Stone. He reminded Cassie of a man who’s being very, very careful around an animal he knows is vicious.
Cassie had to admit she felt shaken herself by Stone’s behavior. In their entire two years together, he had never lost control—not once. They had played good cop/bad cop before, of course, but Stone was already so scary all he had to do was stare at a perp to be the bad cop. Seeing him grab Yarrow and nearly drown the man was deeply unsettling.
“You okay?” she asked her partner, as they began their sweep of the house.
He nodded shortly.
“Forgive me for breaking my word to you. I was…upset.”
“I’d say that’s an understatement,” Cassie murmured. “Anyway, we can talk about it later. Work first.”
He nodded briefly. “Work first.”
They did a once-over of the house and didn’t find a trace of The Beast. They did find a fully functional BDSM dungeon, however, in a room which appeared to have been built on specially to the back of the house.
“Guess we know where The Beast got his props,” Cassie remarked.
“I see you’ve found my little playroom, Detective.”
It was Yarrow, standing in the doorway—well back from Stone, Cassie noticed. He had taken the opportunity to change his shirt and dry his hair and get himself yet another bright green drink.
“Playroom, huh?”
Cassie walked in and examined an empty spot in the room, against the far wall. There was an indentation in the carpet there, as though some heavy piece of furniture had been moved.
“Want to tell us what was here?” she asked, turning to Yarrow. “A St. Andrew’s Cross, maybe?”
“I see you know your bondage equipment, Detective—most impressive.” Yarrow nodded. “Yes, that is where my cross stays most of the time. At the moment, however, it’s in South Tampa at the site of a little movie I’ve been filming.”
“Would that be on Bayshore Avenue?” Cassie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Why yes—I take it you’ve been there and seen it?” Yarrow asked.
“The last time we saw it, a dead female was strapped to it,” Stone growled. “She had been cut to ribbons before her neck was broken. Do you care to explain that?”
Yarrow took another step back.
“As I told you, I’ve been working from home all day. Brutus can corroborate my story, as can several of the girls who work for me.”
“We’ll need a list,” Cassie told him. “And we need to know everything you can tell us about the man calling himself ‘The Kindred Beast.’”
Yarrow spread his arms.
“As I said before, officers, I’ll be completely cooperative. There’s no need for any violence,” he added quickly, when Stone took a step towards him.
Cassie frowned. Clearly this guy had run afoul of the law before but she found it suspicious just how eager he was to give up the goods. Anyone else would have been screaming “police brutality” after Stone had baptized him in the crapper but Yarrow hadn’t even voiced a complaint.
Maybe he was just eager to prove that he had nothing to do with the girl’s murder—which she was beginning to believe, actually. She just hoped they could get some useful information on The Beast.
“Fine,” she said shortly. “Then let’s go back to your, uh, lounge and talk.”
“This way.” Yarrow led them down the hallway and into a luxuriously appointed room set up like a mini theater. There was a huge screen on the far wall and plush brown leather theater seats which reclined, were lined up across from it.
“Nice,” Cassie remarked, walking over to examine the screen.
“This is my viewing room—where I view my work before I release it.” There was a note of pride in Yarrow’s voice.
“I take it you’ve been in business for a while?” Cassie raised an eyebrow at him.
“Since the eighties, my dear—the golden age of pornography.” He sighed theatrically. “Of course, the market is flooded now—there’s so much amateur crap crowding the Internet. But there is still a market for good fetish pornography. People with a certain kink want to see it done well, with all the correct props. It’s a niche market, but it serves me well.”
“Would part of that market happen to be films about underage girls?” Cassie asked, raising both eyebrows this time. “Amelia told us that you’d invited her to star in one of your films—you’re damn lucky she turned you down.”
“Yes, well…” Yarrow squirmed a bit. “There’s certainly a market for girls who look underage. But I thought you wanted to know about The Beast?”
“We do,” Stone growled. “Tell us.”
“Well, to begin with, I only met him a few weeks ago,” Yarrow said quickly. “I was at the Velvet Noose, scouting for fresh talent when he walked over and introduced himself. He said he’d heard I made a certain kind of entertainment and he wanted in. Naturally, I was intrigued. I’d tried to recruit Kindred warriors before—they would be a massive draw because of their size, you know—but I’d never found one who was interested.”
“Was he actually Kindred, though?” Stone demanded, frowning.
Yarrow shrugged.
“Well, as far as I could tell, he was. He was certainly big enough.” He eyed Stone up and down and then looked pointedly at his crotch. “If you know what I mean.”
“I take it you’re not just talking about his height,” Cassie said dryly. Like most women, she’d heard rumors that the Kindred were extremely well-endowed. She’d never asked Stone if it was true, of course. It would have been rude and racist and they didn’t talk about that kind of thing. But she would be lying if she said she hadn’t at least wondered about it.
“Of course I’m not just talking about his height!” Yarrow exclaimed. “He was fourteen inches, uncut! Do you know how rare that is? I knew at once that I had a star on my hands.”
“Well now your star has blood on his hands,” Cassie pointed out. “So where can we find him?”
Yarrow shook his head.
“I honestly don’t know. He never gave me an address or told me where he was staying or where he was from. And he never gave me any name but ‘The Beast’ either.”
“So no résumé, no background, no address and yet you were willing to work with him, anyway?” Cassie demanded.
“Again…his cock was fourteen inches long,” Yarrow emphasized. “I would have worked with the Devil himself to film a cock like that! It was like he had a baseball bat between his legs.”
“Okay, we get it,” Cassie said dryly. “So how long did you work with him?”
“No more than two or three weeks,” Yarrow said quickly. “We did some of our work here in my playroom but then we found a lovely new venue.”
“Amelia’s house,” Stone growled.
“The natural light in the drawing room there is just…” Yarrow pressed his fingers and thumb together and kissed them expressively.
“I don’t think it was natural lighting The Beast was after,” Cassie said, frowning. “Not after what he did to the girl he murdered.”
“I am…very sorry to hear that.” Yarrow shook his head. “I did have to rein him in several times and explain that domination isn’t really about violence—it’s about control.”
“Did he ever use a drug or any kind of mind-altering substance on any of his,
uh, co-stars during filming?” Cassie asked. “Our witness said she saw him inject the girl he killed with something that seemed to make her want to be hurt.”
Yarrow frowned.
“Now that you mention it, he did say that he had something that would make the girls we were filming more, er, eager if you know what I mean. But I have a strict, no-drugs policy on all my sets. For legal reasons, you understand. I don’t want anyone saying they were drugged and made to do something they didn’t agree to,” he added.
“Makes sense,” Cassie said. “Did he show you the drug he wanted to give them?”
Yarrow shook his head.
“No, that was the end of the matter. After that, he just did the scenes as I had written them. Well, mostly. As I said, he tended to go a little overboard with the violence sometimes and I had to rein him in.”
“Did he only do BDSM scenes, then?” Cassie asked.
“Not at all—I had him do some vanilla scenes as well. Mostly ‘huge cock into tiny pussy’ type stuff.” He shrugged. “Needless to say, he was a natural.”
“I’m sure,” Cassie said sarcastically.
“Did he mention a ‘Gozer?’” Stone asked. “The witness also mentioned that name.”
Yarrow shook his head.
“Sorry, that doesn’t ring a bell. He just showed up for work on time and did what I asked him to. He was the perfect star, really he was.”
“Until he committed murder,” Cassie reminded him. “We’ll need a complete list of the girls he worked with. Once we ID the victim, we’ll want to know if she’s on it.”
“We’ll also need to see his work,” Stone said sternly. “All of it.”
“All of it? But that’s quite a lot of footage,” Yarrow started to protest.
Stone took a step towards him, glaring down at the other man. Yarrow paled and nodded quickly.
“But doable—absolutely doable. Just give me a moment and I’ll put everything I have on a flash drive. Brutus, bring me a drive,” he added, looking at his bodyguard.
“Right away, Mr. Yarrow.” Giving Stone a narrow look, the bodyguard left and came back quickly. He handed the small drive, which was shaped like a disk with FY embossed in gold script on it, to his boss.
Playing Their Parts: A Kindred Tales Novel Page 5