Текст книги "Sea Change"

Автор книги: Robert B. Parker

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

“How about me?” Jesse said.

She looked disgusted.

“No way,” she said.

“Okay, then it’ll be Molly. Take her to the squad room,”

Jesse said. “It should be empty. If anyone’s in there, give them the boot.”

Molly nodded.

Cathleen said, “I don’t like talking about it.”

“Come on, hon,” Molly said. “I’m fun to talk with.”

“Yeah, right,” Cathleen said. But she stood and followed Molly out.

“She didn’t do nothing wrong,” Jackie said. Her thin hands were clenched together in her lap.

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“I’m sure she didn’t,” Jesse said.

“Probably shouldn’t have gone out to the yacht,” Sam said.

“She’s a teenager,” Jackie said. “They do foolish things.”

Sam nodded. His head was down, and he appeared to be studying his thick hands.

“You got to do something about this, Jesse.”

Jesse nodded.

“I didn’t want to come here. I wanted to get some guys and go out and beat the shit out of everybody on the fucking boat.”

“Coming here was better,” Jesse said.

“I have to, I’ll go out there myself and break the fucking boat up.”

“You won’t have to,” Jesse said.

“She’s a good girl,” Jackie said. “A little wild, maybe, like most kids. But at heart she’s a good girl.”

“Anyone can see that,” Jesse said.

“She’s got a boyfriend. She’s going to UMass in the fall.”

“This will pass,” Jesse said, just as if he meant it.

“And she’s underage, isn’t she?” Jackie said.

“No, Jackie, she’s not. Not if she’s seventeen,” Jesse said.

“Statutory age of consent in this state is sixteen.”

“Well, they took advantage of a young girl.”

Jesse nodded. Everyone was quiet. Jesse was good at quiet.

Silence was his friend.

“Does everyone have to know?” Sam said.

“There might be some publicity, depends mostly on the 1 2 4

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suspect. If he’s not newsworthy, and we stay out of court with a plea bargain, nobody needs to know. I got no need to talk about it.”

“You called him a suspect,” Jackie said. “You think she’s lying?”

Jesse shook his head. “Just cop talk, Jackie. He’s a suspect until we convict him.”

“Well, she says she was raped, she was raped.”

Molly brought Cathleen back.

“I have a full statement,” Molly said.

Jesse nodded.

“Anything else you want to say, Cathleen?”

“Nope.”

“Okay,” Jesse said. “We’ll arrange a lineup.”

“I’ll know the bastard,” Cathleen said.

“Cathleen!” Jackie said.

“Well, he is a bastard,” Cathleen said.

Sam stood.

“He gets off, Jesse, I swear, I’ll deal with him myself,”

Sam said.

Jesse stood and put out his hand.

“No need, Sam, we’re on it.”

They all shook hands, and Molly showed them out. Jesse thought that Cathleen’s handshake was not enthusiastic.

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27

W hen Molly came back into Jesse’s office, Jesse was looking out his window at the

fire trucks being washed on the firehouse driveway beneath his window. He liked the way the stream of water from the hose sluiced away the suds worked up by the sponge. He liked the way it slid smoothly off and as the water dried up, the red finish of the truck gleamed in the morning sun.

“Rape, my ass,” Molly said.

Jesse nodded. Outside the firemen began to polish the chrome. They liked that truck. Like grooming a horse, Jesse thought. If it was alive, they’d give it a carrot.

S E A C H A N G E

“Let’s hear her statement,” Jesse said.

Molly got the audiotape of her interview with Cathleen and they listened to it in Jesse’s office.

“They made me do a striptease,” Cathleen said.

“What were the circumstances?” Molly asked.

“They got a video camera, and they said I had to do a striptease or they wouldn’t take me home.”

“Who is they?” Molly said.

“The guy that raped me and other guys and some women, too.

They said I had to strip.”

“Perfect,” Jesse said.

“Keep listening,” Molly said.

“And then the guy who owned the boat took me into his bedroom and closed the door and threw me on the bed and raped me. He was like an animal. Just threw me down and jumped on me and stuck it in.”

“But, he did wear a condom,” Molly said.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Did he put that on just before he jumped on you like an animal?”

“Yeah, just before.”

“Was it in a packet?” Molly said. “Did he have to open the packet?”

“No, he just . . . he had it in his pocket and just pulled it out and put it on.”

They listened to the rest of it. She might have had a drink, but if she did, it was only one and she didn’t finish it. What kind of drink? Vodka. Straight? Yes. Who brought her home?

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Same guy brought her out. The one she met in the bar. Could she pick him out of a lineup? Yeah, ’course.

When the tape was finished, Jesse said, “She got drunk at the Dory, went on a lark to the yacht. They fed her more booze.

She got drunker and did a striptease. Then the owner brought her into his bedroom and had sex with her. They brought her home. Maybe they didn’t treat her respectfully. Maybe she just was in trouble at home for being late and being drunk. Maybe she was afraid the tape they made of her striptease would get out. Whatever, she came up with this story.”

Molly nodded.

“Her mother knows she wasn’t raped,” Molly said.

“Yes,” Jesse said. “She does.”

“I guess Sam believes her. I hope he doesn’t do something about this that will get him in trouble.”

“He’ll let us do our thing,” Jesse said. “He’s like a lot of fathers in this situation. He’s saying what he thinks he’s supposed to say.”

“What are you going to do?”

Jesse smiled.

“We don’t know she’s making this up,” Jesse said.

“We’re pretty sure,” Molly said.

“It’s not our job to decide,” Jesse said. “It’s our job to in -

vestigate. The DA and the courts decide.”

“If we got her in here alone and talked to her for a while,”

Molly said, “she’d tell us she’s lying.”

“We don’t want to do that,” Jesse said.

“We don’t?”

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“Then we’d have no reason to search the alleged crime scene.”

“The Lady Jane?” Molly said.

“And confiscate any videotape we might find,” Jesse said.

Molly began to nod her head slowly.

“And since it is a lawful search, if we stumbled across anything that looked like evidence in the Florence Horvath homicide . . .” she said.

“Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good,” Jesse said.

“It helps to know what to do with the luck when it comes your way,” Molly said.

“Yes, it does,” Jesse said.

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28

K elly Cruz sat on a terrace in the tallest building south of New York and looked at

Biscayne Bay. The Cuban maid brought

her iced tea with mint.

“Mister and Missus will come right out, soon,” the maid said.

Kelly Cruz nodded. The maid backed off the terrace.

Kelly Cruz watched an ornate white cruise ship plod fatly south in the bay. She had never been on a cruise, but she couldn’t imagine it was much fun.

“Miss Cruz? Nice to see you again.”

Kelly Cruz put her tea down and stood.

S E A C H A N G E

“Mr. Plum,” she said. “Mrs. Plum.”

Everyone shook hands.

“Sit down,” Mr. Plum said, “please.”

The Cuban maid appeared with iced tea for the Plums.

“That will be all, Magdalena,” Mrs. Plum said. “Thank you.”

The first time she’d met them, Kelly Cruz thought they looked like brother and sister. Mrs. Plum had thick silver hair brushed back, and very large sunglasses. Her skin was evenly tanned. She was slim and wearing a white silk shirt with white linen slacks and sandals. Her toenails were polished. Early sixties, Kelly Cruz estimated. Both of them. Mr.

Plum looked like his wife. Silvery hair, brushed back, even tan, dark glasses, white shirt and slacks. Mr. Plum smiled at Kelly Cruz.

“Did I tell you when you came by last time?” he said.

“That you’re quite attractive for a detective.”

“It’s a disguise,” Kelly Cruz said.

Mr. Plum smiled widely and nodded in a way that made Kelly Cruz think he hadn’t understood what she said.

“Do you have any new information about Florence’s death,”

Mrs. Plum said.

“I need to ask you some more questions, tell you some things we have learned,” Kelly Cruz said, “and get your comments. Not all of the things will be pleasant.”

“Must you?” Mrs. Plum said. “Don’t you think we may have heard enough unpleasant things?”

“She has to do her job, Mommy,” Mr. Plum said.

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“Do you know a man named Thomas Ralston?” Kelly Cruz said.

Mr. Plum looked thoughtful for a time.

Then he said, “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Mrs. Plum?” Kelly Cruz said.

“He’s one of the crowd of pimps and gigolos that Florence knew.”

“Florence? Are you sure, Mommy? I don’t remember him.”

“You remember only what you want to,” Mrs. Plum said.

“And I’m not your mother.”

Mr. Plum smiled at his wife.

“Which was he,” Kelly Cruz said.

“I don’t know. He had money. He owned a yacht. That was enough for Florence.”

“How did he get his money?”

“Wise choice of parents,” Mrs. Plum said. “Or, more likely, grandparents.”

She glanced briefly at her husband. Perhaps he wasn’t a self-made man, either, Kelly Cruz thought. He smiled hap-pily at his wife.

“How well do you know him.”

“I’ve met him once or twice.”

“So you don’t know him well?”

“To know him at all is to know him too well.”

“He doesn’t seem like a bad sort, Mommy,” Mr. Plum said.

“I thought you didn’t know him,” Kelly Cruz said.

“Mommy, Mrs. Plum, reminded me,” he said.

Kelly Cruz nodded.

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“Any thoughts?” Kelly Cruz said.

“Me?” Mr. Plum said. “No. As I said, he seemed nice.”

“Where did you meet him.”

Mr. Plum looked blank. Mrs. Plum said, “Tennis club luau. Florence brought a bunch of people. We didn’t even know she’d be there.”

“Would you have gone if you’d known?”

“No.”

“Do you know where I could find Mr. Ralston?”

“I believe he lives aboard his boat,” Mrs. Plum said.

“In Fort Lauderdale?”

“He never said.”

Kelly Cruz nodded. She knew that Mr. Ralston’s boat was currently in Paradise, Massachusetts.

“We have in our possession,” Kelly Cruz said, “a videotape of Florence having sex with two men.”

Mrs. Plum squeezed her eyes tight shut and dropped her head. Mr. Plum looked faintly quizzical. Neither of them spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Kelly Cruz said. “Do you know anything about that?”

“Well,” Mr. Plum said, with a pleasant smile, “Florence was sort of wild, I guess.”

“Mrs. Plum?” Kelly Cruz said.

Mrs. Plum hadn’t moved. She appeared to be staring at her knees.

“I’m not surprised,” she said without looking up.

“Would you know what the circumstances would be that would . . .” Kelly Cruz stopped.

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“Cause her to do something like that?” Mrs. Plum said.

“Too much money, too much freedom, too little super-vision . . . too little love.”

“But you don’t know of any, ah, commercial enterprise that she might have been involved with?”

“Oh my God, no,” Mrs. Plum said. “Nothing that smacked of work. She would have done it because it was shocking, or depraved, or unconventional. Maybe because she thought it was fun. But never work. Never anything as worthwhile as commercial enterprise.”

Mr. Plum seemed to have lost interest.

“It’s not an investigative question, Mrs. Plum, but I have two children, and . . .”

“And you can’t imagine giving up on them so completely.”

“Did you love her?”

“Yes, I did. God save me, I do. But I had to make choices.

I have two other daughters, much younger. I couldn’t let her corrupt them as she had been corrupted.”

“By whom,” Kelly Cruz said.

Still staring down at her knees with her eyes shut, Mrs.

Plum said, “See above.”

“Too much freedom, too little love?” Kelly Cruz said.

Mrs. Plum nodded. Mr. Plum was looking at his watch.

“You know, it’s after five somewhere,” he said.

He picked up a small silver bell and rang it. The maid appeared.

“I’m going to order drinks,” Mr. Plum said. “What’s your pleasure, Miss Cruz.”

1 3 4

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Kelly Cruz shook her head.

“I’m working,” she said.

Mr. Plum nodded.

“Two old-fashioneds, Magdalena,” he said. “Tell Felix to be sure and use those lowball glasses I like. He knows.”

Magdalena nodded and went out.

Kelly Cruz took a deep breath.

“Your twin daughters,” she said. “They aren’t in Europe.”

Mrs. Plum’s shoulders rose and fell as she breathed deeply.

“They are not students at Emory University.”

No one said anything. From under Mrs. Plum’s closed eye-lids, a couple of tears began to slip down her face. Mr. Plum looked puzzled. He glanced hopefully toward the patio door.

“Did you know that,” Kelly Cruz said, “when I talked with you last time?”

Mrs. Plum nodded.

“Why did you lie?”

“I . . . I knew they had dropped out and I didn’t know where they had gone.”

“Why’d you lie?”

“What kind of a mother doesn’t even know where her kids are?” Mrs. Plum said.

The maid came in and put an old-fashioned next to Mrs.

Plum. Mr. Plum took his from her hand and drank some. He smiled and exhaled audibly. Mrs. Plum opened her wet eyes and looked at the drink which was already beginning to bead moisture in the warmth of the terrace.

“Oh God,” she said, and picked up her glass.

1 3 5

29

S o how come I get to go on this big search,”

Molly said. “There women involved?”

“There’s some women,” Jesse said.

They were on the harbor boat.

“Otherwise you and Suit would have done it yourselves.”

“Nice to have a woman, in an isolated situation, where there are other women.”

“So I’m like the nurse in the examining room.”

“Exactly,” Jesse said.

“How come I never get to do guy cop things.”

Jesse shrugged.

S E A C H A N G E

“Next time Carl Radborn gets drunk in the Dory we’ll give you a shout,” he said.

Molly grinned.

“Women are nice,” she said.

Hardy pulled the boat in alongside the Lady Jane, and held it there while the three cops went aboard.

“Be awhile, Hardy,” Jesse said. “I’ll call you on the cell phone.”

“I’ll lay off here a little to the leeward,” Hardy said. “No hurry.”

“Leeward,” Suitcase said.

“I love it,” Molly said, “when you talk salty.”

Hardy didn’t respond and the three cops scrambled up onto the deck of the Lady Jane.

Harrison Darnell met them himself. His guests were gathered at breakfast. The crew, except for the captain, was serving. There were bagels and muffins. There was cheese and a platter of fruit, coffee and a pitcher of orange juice. A bottle of champagne stood in a bucket. Blondie was drinking a Bloody Mary.

“What is it now?” Darnell said.

He was in shorts and boat shoes and a flowered shirt. Jesse handed him the warrant.

“A crime has been alleged on board,” Jesse said. “That’s a warrant to search the boat.”

“Crime?”

“A young woman alleges rape.”

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“Rape? For crissake, Stone, I don’t have to rape anyone.”

“We will also require that you not leave the harbor, and that you come in for a lineup.”

“Lineup?” Darnell said. “What the fuck are you talking about. A fucking lineup?”

Jesse nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes,” Jesse said, “that’s what it’s often called.”

“You have no damned jurisdiction here,” Darnell said.

“We’re at sea.”

“You’re in Paradise Harbor, Mr. Darnell,” Jesse said.

“Why don’t you sit down over there, have a nice cup of tea or something.”

“I want a lawyer.”

Jesse shrugged.

“Call one,” he said. “Officer Crane and I will search the ship. Officer Simpson will stay with you on deck.”

“I won’t allow it,” Darnell said. “It is a travesty. There has been no crime. Ask anyone.”

He stepped in front of the stairwell.

“You are not going below.”

“Of course we are, Mr. Darnell,” Jesse said. “It’s just a question of hard or easy.”

“What’s hard?” Blondie Martin asked from her seat at the table. Her eyes were wide and full of excitement as she looked at Jesse over the rim of her glass.

“Easy is Mr. Darnell goes and sits down with you,” Jesse said. “Step aside, Mr. Darnell.”

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There was something frantic in Darnell’s resistance.

“No,” he said. “You aren’t going below.”

Jesse took the cuffs off his belt.

“You are under arrest, Mr. Darnell, for refusing a lawful order. Face the bulkhead, please. Hands on the top.”

Darnell’s voice slid up into a high vibrato.

“No,” he said. “No.”

Jesse took hold of Darnell’s right forearm. Darnell tried to pull away, Jesse started to turn him, and Darnell swung at Jesse with his left hand. Jesse avoided the punch, used the momentum it generated to spin Darnell, slammed him against the bulkhead and pinned him there with his shoulder while he snapped the cuff on his right wrist. Darnell flailed with his left hand, but Jesse caught it, brought it down and clicked onto the left wrist. It was all so quick, Darnell had no chance to stabilize himself for a real resistance.

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 cause 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

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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

S E A C H A N G E

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 and 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.”