Poplar Falls

by Arseneault, Pierre C;

  “It would also keep women from suspecting innocent men,” Tilley replied. “Did you think about that?”

  “Actually, I never did think of it that way,” Dodge replied as he drank the last of his coffee.

  “You wouldn’t,” Tilley replied. “Men can forget this type of thing but women can’t.”

  “You think all men are pigs, don’t you?” Dodge asked.

  “Not all men,” Tilley replied with a smile. “But most of them are. But I hope you don’t think women are that much better,” she added with a smile.

  Dodge started his rusty Ford Escape and pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the local bottle depot, where he assumed Walter would be going at this hour.

  “I need you to help me figure out this Panty Bandit thing,” Dodge said.

  Tilley was starting to understand why Dodge hadn’t told anyone where he had found Charlie Baker’s old laptop. She also understood why he hadn’t said anything about the Panty Bandit’s prints either. If word got out, someone might hurt Walter. Although a small part of her thought he might deserve it, another part of her wondered if he even remembered that part of his past. Walter was very different since the life-altering surgery that saved his life.

  They watched Walter go to the recycling depot and drop off his cargo. They waited until he left and followed him home. Walter was oblivious to the pair of detectives following him. And even if he had seen them, he wouldn’t have known they were actually following him and why. Walter had a one-track mind now and pedaling his tricycle with a destination in mind was hard work for him.

  41

  His tricycle and wagon tucked away, Walter stood before the large freezer in his trailer, digging through his pockets to find today’s earnings. He would need to put this with the rest; in the box that contained coins and bills sitting on top of a red silk garment lining the bottom of the cardboard box. This red silk pair of panties, which he had stolen from one of his last outings before his surgery, never made it to his hiding place with the rest; a hiding place that his mother had found in the back of his bedroom closet. Walter always waited until his mother was asleep before digging out the boxes and obsessing over his collection. Walter’s tricycle used to belong to his mother when she was still able to make it to the grocery store herself. But eventually Walter had to take that over and this gave him freedom. Freedom to roam was the reason he had stolen his first pair of panties, taking them from a clothesline while no one was looking. He had been irresistibly drawn to the silky underwear, his very first theft. The adrenaline of stealing them added to the rush he got from possessing them. He fondled them nightly for a month before the excitement began to wane. The thrill of the theft began plaguing his mind, more than the underwear itself. Soon, he would steal another pair from a clothesline, but the excitement he felt from this one wouldn’t last a week. He began obsessing over the idea of stealing dirty women’s underwear. He grew excited at the mere thought of it. Before his operation Walter wasn’t the smartest, but he could be calculating. He picked the location of his first break-in by figuring out her routine. His first victim, the newly-divorced Mrs. Weatherbee, had a routine that wasn’t hard to figure out. Laundry day was always Tuesday nights and so Mondays, when she would be at school teaching, her place would be empty and her underwear dirty. Unbeknownst to Mrs. Weatherbee, she would be Walter’s first victim.

  He had entered the house through a back window that had been left open, so there was nothing broken. His fear of getting caught had overridden his perverted urges, and so he had taken the very first pair of red silk panties at the top of the hamper and left. Mrs. Weatherbee only noticed her red underwear was missing about a week later and assumed it probably had gone the way of the legendary missing socks her ex-husband always used to talk about. She would never know she had been the very first victim in what would become a rash of break-and-enters.

  Walter would take the tricycle out, riding through the same neighbourhoods he now collected his recyclables in. Wanting to steal dirty underwear, he would need to know when laundry day was; that was easy enough for his then-sharper mind. Clotheslines were obvious, but not everyone used those. But Walter could smell the fabric softener wafting from the dryer vents as he biked past the houses that were doing laundry, and many were sticklers for routine which meant laundry day was always the same day of the week. Mrs. Weatherbee was Tuesdays and her neighbour, who Walter didn’t know, was Sundays. And Friday nights were date night for the couple, which often meant their house would be empty for hours. They would be the first to report a break-in but it would take a while before they realized what had been taken. After the fourth break-in, people realized what was being stolen and the thief was quickly branded the Panty Bandit. Mrs. Weatherbee always remained oblivious to having been his first victim.

  Now Walter’s stash, which had been his prized possession, was growing mouldy. Walter hadn’t been in the back of his closet since part of his mind had been carved out and thrown away like trash. It was as if they had cut out the part of him that had gotten sexually aroused by women’s panties. Reality was that Walter hadn’t had a sexual thought since the life-saving procedure. The procedure that had saved his life and had changed him forever had also stopped his criminal behaviour. Something his mother had figured out, but she never saw the point of reminding Walter of this fact.

  But now, simple-minded Walter added today’s earnings into the same cardboard box he had been putting all his money into since he’d started collecting recyclables. He thought about counting it but was afraid he would end up frustrated like the last time.

  Walter took a folded and crumpled paper from his back pocket and looked at it for a long moment. A single tear flowed down his dirty cheek, cleaning a path down to his chin in the process. Walter tossed the paper onto the pile of random papers which cluttered the top of the old freezer. Crumpled as it was, it blended in with the rest of the tattered papers. Walter’s stomach growled, and his one-track mind was refocusing on the task at hand, which would be to crack open a can of food and eat. The old electric can opener which used to make a lot of abnormal noises no longer worked, so he turned to his manual one. He pried it open to get at the food inside. As he spooned the cold food into his hungry mouth, again he looked longingly at the microwave with the blackened side vent. Walter had forgotten that cans are not supposed to go into the microwave. His mother had told him this, but being simple wasn’t easy. But right now Walter only cared about one thing and that was eating his large can of cold stew. And sleep. Walter was always tired, but dehydration would have that effect on anyone.

  42

  Calvin sat at a desk next to a uniformed officer while giving a statement as Detectives Dodge and Tilley entered the bullpen at the Poplar Falls Police Station. Next to the officer sat Lemkie, who was smiling a little too much. Only later would they think that odd, since he was Calvin’s boss. Calvin’s left eye was puffed up and blackened as he spoke to the officer.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Tilley asked.

  “Long story,” Calvin replied.

  “Spill it. You and Lemkie disagree on which is best, Star Trek or Star Wars?” Dodge joked.

  “Very funny,” Lemkie replied with a frown. “Everyone knows it’s Star Trek,” which got him a dirty look from Calvin, who preferred Star Wars.

  “I was leaving for work this morning and some guy jumps me,” Calvin said. His gaze went back and forth between Dodge and Tilley, waiting to see when they would lose their cool and laugh.

  “You got mugged outside your apartment?” Tilley asked. “Agatha’s not going to like that.” Calvin lived in one of Agatha’s many apartments.

  “Not mugged,” the officer replied, who looked at Lemkie before letting Calvin continue telling his story.

  “Well, I thought he wanted money. I would have given it to him, too,” Calvin added. “He wanted a list of names of the women on the sex tapes.”


  “What?” Detective Tilley exclaimed.

  Dodge’s brow furrowed as he spoke. “How did he know about the porn?”

  All of them looked at Dodge with sarcasm in their eyes, but none of them spoke aloud the fact that rumours were rampant all over Poplar Falls.

  “Did you see who it was?” Tilley asked.

  “A white guy, but he was wearing a ski mask,” Calvin replied. “I figure he had to be at least in his forties. I mean, he called them sex tapes and not videos.”

  “What did you tell him?” Dodge asked.

  “Nothing, which is why he gave me this,” Calvin said, pointing to his blackened left eye.

  “Living the dream,” Lemkie said as he got up to leave, knowing full well the response he would get from his frustrated employee.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Calvin shouted after Lemkie. “No, tell me!”

  43

  After a full day of interviewing many of Charlie Baker’s past lovers Dodge sat in his screened porch, still in his running shorts and t-shirt, nursing a cold beer and sitting with his laptop as usual after a run. Tilley, arriving from her trip to the gym, came straight over.

  “Anything interesting on Facebook tonight?” she asked as she entered the porch and perched herself on the ledge of the screened-in window.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t already hear,” Dodge replied. He gestured for Tilley to help herself to a beer.

  “What now?” She shook her head no to the offer of a beer.

  “I just got off the phone with Lemkie and he thinks they got hacked.”

  “What hack? When?”

  Dodge set his beer down, clicked at the laptop for a moment, and then turned it to show his partner. On the screen was a still of a naked blonde woman on her hands and knees. Charlie Baker was kneeling behind her, giving her everything he had, which turned out to be a lot if the look on the blonde’s face was anything to go by, thought Tilley.

  “Is that—” Tilley asked.

  “Lucy Shaffer,” Dodge replied.

  “Lemkie says Calvin is convinced someone hacked into his computer. Although, from what they can tell, the only footage they’ve found online is the Lucy Shaffer footage.”

  “Well, it does make sense since she’s a celebrity and all. Although I’m not sure if I want to know how you found out about the video being posted on some porn site.”

  Dodge laughed as he clicked away at his laptop and showed a tabloid magazine website’s front page to Tilley.

  “Google search,” Dodge stated. “It’s where you tell Google to flag you of stuff that pops up online using the key word you wanted to watch for.”

  “Whoa… look at you,” Tilley quipped. “Since when did you get to be Mr. Tech Savvy?”

  Dodge gave her a look indicating that, while he preferred the old paper methods, he wasn’t completely inept when it came to computers.

  “Anyway, our friend Charlie Baker has been trending since this afternoon when the tabloid posted an article about the porn site’s video with him and Lucy Shaffer.”

  “You should set up one of those things for Lucy Shaffer,” Tilley replied.

  “I already did,” Dodge replied. “Rumour is her agent is suing the porn site but I’m betting it’s a publicity stunt.”

  “How is a video of her having sex publicity?” Tilley asked.

  “I’m just waiting to see if any other videos of Charlie end up online as well,” Dodge replied as he sipped his beer.

  “You disappointed that Calvin hasn’t found any vids of Charlie Baker with Ms. Weatherbee?”

  “Well, I do admit I was sort of surprised there were none,” Dodge replied.

  “Not me. Although I was shocked to see her at his door that morning,” Tilley replied. “I did tell you that I bumped into her at the grocery store, didn’t I?”

  “Not that I recall,” Dodge replied curiously. He found it odd for Tilley to have withheld this information from him.

  The truth of the matter was that once Tilley had caught Marci staring at her so intensely, she had forgotten all about her conversation with Ms. Weatherbee.

  “She wanted me to tell you she’s no whore,” Tilley said with a smile.

  “Noted,” Dodge replied, focusing his attention on his laptop. He didn’t look up in that moment, but Tilley could tell he was paying attention. It was obvious to her that he had been curious about Ms. Weatherbee ever since he had laid eyes on her curvaceous body.

  “Well, let me know if you find out anything else,” Tilley said as she made her way to the door.

  “I will,” Dodge replied as he watched her leave. Once he saw her cross the street, he minimized the Facebook page and went back to the porn site and hit play on the video of Lucy Shaffer and Charlie Baker getting it on. And while it wasn’t graphic porn with close-ups and all, the footage hadn’t been edited and was all from one single camera angle. Dodge knew instantly why the video had gone viral so quickly. Lucy was a very attractive woman and Charlie was really giving what had to be the performance of his life. Although Dodge hadn’t watched much of the homemade porn, so he didn’t really have much of a comparison. He made a mental note to ask Lemkie about that in the morning. Calvin would just love discussing porn with the detectives, thought a grinning Dodge. But sadly Lemkie would have to do.

  During their telephone call, Lemkie had explained that Calvin said he was finished hacking all the files and so had access to all the videos now. But Calvin was also in the process of what Dodge liked to call a burnout. Calvin gave Lemkie a note from his doctor saying he needed a few days away from digging through pornography all day. None of them knew that Calvin was a porn addict, but he normally didn’t watch porn at work. But since he got attacked, his stress levels had peaked and he needed time off. Lemkie might have expressed this had Calvin not vomited on his shoes moments after giving him his doctor’s note. Lemkie’s new expensive sneakers with the fancy laces would smell of Calvin’s nervous stomach content for a week.

  44

  Vernon thought it strange when he pulled into his driveway to see his elegant two-storey house completely dark. It wasn’t strange for him to work late, as he did it all the time. Owning a business is a lot of work. Something both he and his wife knew very well since they each had businesses of their own. But it was strange that the hall lights weren’t on like they always were when he ran late. The outside sensor light came on as soon as he opened the car door, illuminating the immaculate landscaping and stone walkway leading to the house. He gathered a pair of grocery bags from the car and paused, looking up at the second-floor window as if wanting to make sure he had not imagined the lights being off. He checked his digital watch which he gotten as a Christmas present from his wife a few years before. It read 11:45 PM. His rendezvous with Dave had made him much later than he had expected it to. Mind you, he had no regret about agreeing to meet on such short notice. Dave had made it worth the time and then some, thought Vernon as he walked up the walkway, smiling absentmindedly.

  Once inside, Vernon set his keys on the entry table and kicked off his shoes. Noticing a faint glow emanating from the living room, he peered in to see the television playing a Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan movie. The sound of the television was barely audible as Hanks and Ryan were having a conversation in what looked like a library or maybe a bookstore.

  On the couch lay his wife, her arms wrapped up in the pillow under her head, a spot of drool under her chin. On the coffee table before her sat a half-empty bottle of white wine, a near-empty wine glass, and three-quarters of a large slab of dark chocolate. Next to all that was a copy of the local newspaper, folded so that the picture of the flowers at Charlie Baker’s place was showing. Vernon took the grocery bags to the kitchen, putting them away before going back into the living room.

  He glanced at his watch again and decided that waking his wife would most likely mean having to explain t
he hour at which he had come home to find her sleeping on the couch. Instead he took the fuzzy blanket off the back of the couch and gently laid it over the woman he married; his high school sweetheart, whom he still loved very much. Only now he wasn’t as confused as he had been in his teenage years. He knew now that he was gay, no doubt about it anymore. But the problem was, he still loved his wife more than ever and couldn’t bear the idea of hurting her, so telling her was out of the question. He knew she was sexually frustrated and that’s why she had slept with that damned Charlie Baker. A fact that pissed him off at first, but he quickly got over it as he wasn’t exactly taking care of her needs in the sex department. Nor did he have any interest of rekindling this part of his marriage either. He was more than fine with their sex life being nonexistent at this point, especially since he had met Dave. Vernon had had a few male lovers over the years but none of them were relationship material. But Dave he thought about a lot and could see himself being with him. But the thought of telling his wife brought a tear to his eye. A tear he wiped away as he turned off the television and made his way upstairs. The bed would feel empty without his wife in it but it would be easier than explaining why he had come home so late.

  45

  Sadie opened an eye just enough to watch her husband walk out of the living room. His gently covering her with the blanket had awoken her but she hadn’t budged. She knew it was probably very late but was too tired to have the conversation about why her husband was only getting home at this hour. Also, a part of her was jealous. She had smelled the sex on him and that saddened her. Her husband, her high school sweetheart, was getting some but she wasn’t. Not anymore. Not since Charlie Baker was murdered. Lord knew her Vernon hadn’t touched her in years and she knew he had no interest in ever doing so again. But she had been chilled and the blanket was so warm. It was obvious that he still loved her but not like a husband should love a wife. He never kissed her anymore and she longed for that. To be touched, caressed, kissed, and made love to. A tear rolled down her cheek and onto the pillow. As she heard the floor upstairs creak slightly as Vernon tried to be quiet, her mind wandered to the hours spent at Charlie’s place. She reached out an arm towards the giant slab of dark chocolate on the coffee table but felt too drained to move anything else, so she let her arm drop lifelessly down the side of the couch.