Dahmer's Not Dead

seen such a nice physique in real life. Tv, movies—sure. But not for real. You should be on magazines, or soaps, she felt inclined to tell him. She took the drink. “But, first, Mr. North, I’m curious about your previous comment, something about your gigs?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said and sat down on an opposing couch. Clipped bangs waved over his eyes. “And there’s nothing illegal about it. I got a model release and an STD test for each gig.”

“But I still don’t know what you mean by gigs.”

“My films,” he said. “My x-rated vids.”

Vids, she thought. Videos. “So you’re a movie star, is that it, Mr. North?”

“I’m not ashamed. Most people who watch x-rated’s? They’re shut-ins, crippled, can’t meet people because they’re too shy, too inhibited. I got no problem with that.”

Helen considered this. “Neither do I. I could care less. But…well, it’s none of my business but—”

“You want to know how much I make in vids?” He chuckled. “That’s what everyone asks. It’s not as much as you might think. I’m what they call a second-top name, that’s one rung down from the stars like Jake Wrangler, Dick Black, Todd Swann—those guys. I cop a c-note and a half per scene.”

Helen’s brow creased; she couldn’t help it. “That sounds like pretty good money, Mr. North.”

He laxed back against the couch, held up his hands. “Not when you only work ten scenes a year. You want me to plug in one of my vids? I got a gay x-rated award for All Hands On Dick.”

Helen fought hard not to laugh at the title. “I’ll pass, thank you, Mr. North.” She had to regain her composure. “Let me give it to you fast. I ran what we call a free-rove search in the state’s criminal index computer, connected to a name pulled up by the Madison bust. Glen Kussler. Your name came up right alongside his. He was a steady client of yours.”

“All right, I’m not gonna lie.” North’s impressive pectorals flexed when he raised his hands again. “You got it all in your records—Christ, I can’t believe the service would be so stupid to keep client records in a goddamn computer.”

“Well, they were that stupid, Mr. North,” Helen authenticated. “So tell me more.”

“You want to know about Glen Kussler—I’ll tell you. He was a steady bi-month trick, and, yeah, he wanted top service. In case you don’t know what that means—I was the top. He was the bottom. He gets into a little S&M and B/D. I’d tie him up, rough him around a little, call him names—that’s what the guy wanted, and that’s what he paid for, and I can’t believe Glen would level charges against me.”

“He didn’t, Mr. North,” Helen said. “He’s dead.”

North’s eyes locked with hers—genuine despair. “Was he—”

“Yes, Mr. North, he was murdered. I can’t tell you all the potential details revolving around the case, but I can tell you that. He was murdered quite brutally. You’ll probably see it in the papers tomorrow.”

“Fuck!” North crudely exclaimed. “Jesus! I mean, sure, Glen was a little bit of a flake, but he never did anything bad to anyone. That really sucks someone killed him. I knew the guy well, I can’t see him going to another top.”

“You think it was another prostitute who did this?” Helen took a cheap stab at baiting him.

“How do I know? I don’t know anything about it. All I know is he was a decent guy, and a steady trick.”

“How much did you charge him to ‘rough him around a little’?”

“Standard service fee, a hundred and fifty bucks, and he’d always lay a fifty-buck tip on me.”

“And this was twice a month, you say?”

“Yeah, about that. Er, what I mean is when he was on the rocks with his lover, which was pretty regular.”

Helen slipped out a 5x7 print copy of Glen Kussler’s county records photo—definitely not the same man she’d interviewed at Kussler’s apartment. “Is this Glen Kussler?”

North only needed a one-second glance. “Yeah, sure. That’s Glen. And like I said, he was a decent trick. He was an electrician for the county prison.”

“And what were you saying a moment ago, something about him having a lover?”

 “Yeah, Glen Kussler had a lover, off and on, a guy he referred to as Cam.”

“Cam?”

“That’s right. You ask me, this Cam guy was jerking Glen around, playing the mind games—you know. I mean, shit—you’re probably straight, but I’m sure guys have played mind games with you, haven’t they?”

Helen forestalled on an answer, thinking, Yeah I guess you could say that. “But if Kussler had a steady lover, why did he—well—need to hire you?”

“That’s what I’m trying to explain. This guy, this guy Cam. He was always breaking up with Glen, jerking him around. This guy was a top, all right, but he took advantage. Jerked Glen around like you wouldn’t believe, at least that’s what Glen told me. What I mean is, he’d break up with Glen just for kicks, toy with him a while, then take him back. It was during those break ups that Glen hired me.”

Cam, Helen thought. “Describe Cam, Mr. North.”

“Well, I only saw him once. He was coming around to Glen’s place right after I did a trick. I mean, I can’t even be sure it was Cam, it was just some guy coming around, but Glen didn’t have any other lovers that he ever mentioned.”

“This person you saw. What did he look like?”

“Well, I’ll tell you that, Captain. But, well, didn’t you say something earlier about a deal?”

Helen’s lips set. But why shouldn’t she expect it? Nothing’s free. “Cooperate with me, Mr. North, and I will request that the district attorney’s office drop any and all currently pending charges against you. I can’t guarantee you they’ll drop charges, but I can tell you they’ve never denied me in the past.”

“This guy I saw,” North propelled without pause, “he was about 5’-10”, one-seventy. Slim frame.”

“Hair color, Mr. North?”

“Sandy blond.”

 Sandy blond, Helen remembered. Same as the guy I talked to, who claimed to be Kussler. North was being cool, but she still had to pressure him some more. “That’s good, Mr. North. But not good enough. I need more if you want to skate. I need to know more about this person Cam. Anything you might know, anything Kussler may have told you about him.”

“Aw, shit, Captain! There ain’t much more! I mean—shit—let me think.” North leaned back in the couch, closing his eyes, thinking. “Oh, yeah—aside from rough sex, Glen told me the guy was into computers.”

“Computers?”

“Yeah, he had a big fancy computer, according to Glen. Me, I don’t own one, don’t like ‘em. But Glen told me Cam was like all big into these new computer and CD-ROM games.”

Helen’s thoughts stilled for a moment.

“He dug a lot of these underground games, obscene ones you can’t buy in the stores—Glen told me about them. Really violent games—torture, murder, stuff like that.”

Tom plays a lot of— But, no, that was absurd. Some of his games were a bit violent, but nothing like what North was referring to. Get back on track, Helen.

“And also a lot of really hardcore videos,” North continued, “the illegal, unlicensed stuff you gotta buy through mail drops and shit. Bondage, corporal punishment, ‘wet’ S&M.”

“‘Wet’ S&M?” Helen felt vaguely inept. “I know what S&M is, of course, but…”

“‘Wet’ means it’s the real McCoy. Pins, needles, barbed whips—if it’s wet, they draw blood.”

The slightest image shimmied Helen’s stomach.

“Glen told me Cam even had a real snuff film—”

Another, harder shimmy.

“So you get the gist,” North was saying. “This guy Cam—real sick pup material.”

“A genuine sadist.”

“Genuine and then some. Abused the living hell out of Glen.”