“You don’t need to see it with eight lecherous loud-mouths,” Jesse said. “Stay on the desk. There’s something you need to see, you can watch it alone later.”
Molly was silent for a moment.
“I’m part of the department, Jesse,” Molly said softly. “I don’t want everyone else to know something I don’t know.”
Jesse said, “Somebody has to be on the desk, Moll.”
She nodded. Jesse turned toward the squad room.
“I’ll watch it later,” Molly said.
“Absolutely,” Jesse said. “You can use the VCR in my office.”
Molly was silent for another moment. Then, just as Jesse was opening the door to the squad room, she said, “Thank you.”
Jesse said, “You’re welcome,” and went in.
The cops were gathered at the long table. The VCR and monitor, which were on a small metal cart, had been wheeled into position at the foot of the table. The screen was glow-ing. Jesse’s chair at the head of the table was empty, and in front of it was the padded mailer from Kelly Cruz. All of the cops were drinking coffee and someone had brought a cup for Jesse. He peeled the lid off as he sat down.
“No Jujubes?” Jesse said.
“We was going to get a keg of beer,” Suitcase Simpson said. “But we figured you’d be prudish about it.”
“Remember, the woman in this tape is dead,” Jesse said,
“and she may be the victim of a crime. We are looking at evidence. Try to notice something other than her snatch.”
5 4
S E A C H A N G E
Somebody said, “Yes sir!”
Jesse opened the mailer, took the cassette down to the other end of the table, put it in the VCR, picked up the remote, walked back to his chair, sat down and pointed the remote at the VCR.
“To serve and protect,” he said and clicked play.
There was a naked woman, shot from behind. She was having sex with a man who lay on his back beneath her on a bed, or sofa, or something with a blue-and-yellow stripe. As the camera watched, another man walked into the shot and mounted her.
The cops around the table cheered. Simpson was the youngest of them.
“Jesus,” he said. “Front and back.”
The woman turned, sandwiched between the two men, and smiled widely at the camera. It was clearly Florence Horvath. She was a lot better-looking than her license photo.
Jesse smiled to himself without pleasure,
After about two minutes’ running time, the cops began to talk.
“Between wives,” Arthur Angstrom said, “I used to date a woman, wanted me to bring a friend. I told her I could never get it up with another guy involved.”
5 5
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“I heard you couldn’t get it up anyway, Arthur,” Peter Perkins said.
“Give you a list of satisfied customer, you want,” Arthur said.
“Look at the weapon on that guy,” Buddy Hall said.
“Jesus,” Suitcase said, “if that’s a penis, what am I walking around with?”
The film ended after about eight minutes with Florence apparently having an historic orgasm while the cops laughed and bantered. Jesse wondered if the banter covered any dis-comfort. He didn’t enjoy porn very much. But he didn’t mind it much unless it was gross. Jesse had always thought heterosexual anal sex verged on gross. Nothing in Florence’s home movie had changed his mind about that.
“Didn’t see any clues,” Peter Perkins said. “Maybe we should play it more.”
“Did you look at the guys?” Jesse said.
Nobody said anything.
“Okay, we’ll run it again,”Jesse said.
Around the table the cops groaned. Perkins had been kidding. Most of them were bored with it already.
“Look at the guys, this time,” Jesse said. “Maybe we’ll see one again.”
Jesse rewound the tape. And rolled it. The cops watched again, looking at the men. Jesse noticed they were quieter.
Less uncomfortable, maybe. Jesse looked, too. There was nothing in the film to tell him where it was shot. Just
