Marilyn and Chris walked back into the living room. Marilyn's face was still puffy but her eyes were abnormally bright. She sat down confidently next to Sam Lynden. "OK sarge let's get this over with."
"Fine Miss Short. First let me ask you how long your high will last?"
Marilyn was startled by the question. "Damn, you think you know so much. Well it'll last until you and Miss Itchy Pussy are out of here," she spat back at him.
Chris blushed. She had reconciled herself to the probability of worse things than bad names coming out in the investigation. But, Marilyn's venom was unpleasant just the same.
"OK. Why'd you bug Miss Diamond's car?"
Marilyn stared at Chris as she answered. "Who says I did?"
"We're going to get nowhere fast if you answer my questions with questions, ma'am. Let's try again. When Miss Diamond's car was sent to the repair shop from here who authorized the repairs?"
"I did and paid for them too."
"I see. Do you have a copy of the service order or the bill?"
"No. Paul takes care of all those things. He picked the car up I believe."
"Is Paul here this evening?"
"No."
"Do you know what was wrong with Miss Diamond's car or what repairs were made?"
"No."
"Fine. How long you been free-basing coke?"
Marilyn shot out of her seat like a rocket. Her face contorted with rage, spittle running from the corner of her mouth. "You sonovabitch get out and take this hayseed cunt with you," she shrieked.
"Calm down please. I know you have cocaine in this house; in your bathroom as a matter of fact – I watched you prepare for this interview on television," Sam said quietly.
Chris turned to the tall black policeman her face reflecting her surprise. "You watched too?"
"Yes, Chris, I wondered what was taking you so long so I quietly opened the bedroom door and saw the same thing you did," his deep voice sounded sad.
Marilyn sat with her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed, "I can't go on this way."
Chris moved to Marilyn and put an arm around her shoulders. "Come on Marilyn tell us what's going on and let us help you."
Marilyn straightened up. Wiping her eyes and cheeks on a handkerchief Sam had handed to her she said in a low voice, "Let me just tell what I know and then ask questions."
"It's your show now Ms. Short," Sam said taking a notebook from his inside pocket and settling back.
"After substance abuse treatment program I was clean and felt good. However, I owed a lot of money to several people. It wasn't long before my major creditors began to get nasty. I wasn't even keeping up with the interest they charged on the money I had borrowed."
"One day Fred came to see me and told me they wanted him to start running me as a call girl. Sex is fun for me. I never thought of selling what I enjoyed giving away and I told Fred it wouldn't work."
"He seemed sympathetic but said unless I did something soon I was in for a lot of trouble. It was soon after that that the people I owed lost a huge shipment of drugs. Now the pressure on me really mounted."
"Billy Deacon and I have been friends for years. I told Billy of my problem. He described the smuggling routine we now use and suggested I offer it as part payment on my debt. When I told Fred about it he agreed that it was worth discussing."
"Within a week after that I was set up in this house and given a couple of fancy cars. My job was to lure medical professionals into sexual indiscretions. There were several reasons why they needed medical professionals. Most important was they needed a drug treatment facility where they could send clients to keep them from gabbing."
"After one of their mules died from a drug overdose when a condom full of coke broke in her stomach the discovered another need for doctors and nurses. Finally, it became clear to them that they could make money on the hospital and the little store front clinics they have set up."
"They at first thought they would get their English speaking personnel by hooking them on the drugs they import and sell. It soon became clear that this was a lousy idea because the people couldn't function. That's when sex and the VCR came into use."
"Somewhere in this house there are tapes of prominent doctors, nurses, hospital administrators and politicians involved in illicit sex. I say somewhere because I am limited to five rooms in this eighteen room mausoleum."
"Now you know all I know. So ask your questions," Marilyn said sighing and slumping back in her chair.
"Who are your major creditors? Is Fred Welsh one of them? And, who is running this whole operation?"
Marilyn had obviously come down from her high with a real crash. She was pale and very subdued as she answered Sam Lynden. "I don't know who the real creditors are. Fred is merely a bag man. I have my suspicions though – I think the owners of this house and the bosses of the operation are Paul and Hilda."
Sam sat up as Marilyn blurted this out. "OK I agree. You said they're not here so let's search whole place and see what we can find."
"You can't without a search warrant, can you?" Marilyn asked.
"I can't, but your guest Miss Diamond can. She's only interested in finding the compromising video tape you had made of her. All you need do if give her permission to search while you lie down and rest," Sergeant Lynden said quietly.
"It's OK with me Chris. Go search I don't give a damn," Marilyn said standing and heading for her bedroom. She stopped abruptly and turned saying, "There are no tapes in my bedroom suite. If you fine the one I just made would you bring it to me please." Chris looked at Sam and he nodded his head. "Sure. Rest well."
As soon as Marilyn closed her bedroom door Sam was up and moving. "Let's find the door or doors to the part of the house she can't use. You look down the hall and around the kitchen area. I'll call and see if the boys at the station can get some one in city hall to get the plans for this place – I doubt we can get them in time though."
Chris moved down the hall opening closet and bathroom doors without difficulty until she reached a door she had not noticed before. It was at the very end of the hall. When she tried it the knob did not turn and when she tapped on it she could tell that it was solid. There was no visible lock anywhere.
She called to Sam Lynden who came trotting down the hall his leather belt creaking and his keys jingling.
"What have we here?" he said with admiration in his voice. He too tried the door and then said to Chris, "Look for an alphanumeric pad somewhere on the same wall – never mind I found it."
Chris looked where Sam was looking and sure enough the ornate frame of a mirror hanging on the door had the key pad worked into its fancy scroll work.
"What do we do now, Sam?"
"You open it. All I can do is watch while you do it."
"Huh? Are you crazy? I don't know the code."
"Yes you do Chris – try 30196 – it should work."
Chris did as she was told and a soft whirring sound came from the door. She tried it and it swung back easily.
"What the hell – how'd you know the combination?"
"Trade secret. Go on in. I can't follow you."
Chris entered a large dimly lit windowless room. The floor was concrete slab. The walls on one side were lined with rows of metal shelving filled with video tapes. The rest of the room was filled with wooden crates and cardboard boxes all tightly sealed.
Chris moved quickly along the rows of shelves and saw that the video tapes were filed by code numbers rather than dates, places or people's names. However, it was speedily evident that the code would not be a problem. She stumbled upon a large console hidden by the shelves which housed a computer plus a TV and VCR.
Jogging back through the room she opened the door and motioned for Lynden to follow her in. His eyes lit up when he saw the sealed crates and boxes. "This has got to be their warehouse for the stuff they're smuggling in."
Chris said, "I'm going to try to see if I can locate some incriminating tapes – including my own embarrassment. Are you going to call for backup?"
"I'll step outside and consult the boss. He's around somewhere. I'll send Betty Morales in to help you when I find her. Good hunting."
Chris went back to the console and after turning on the computer she searched for some clue on how to access the video tape filing system. A small piece of paper pasted on the front of the computer contained a list of single and double keystroke commands. Chris decided to run through them first. In less than five minutes she had the entire file printed out and ready for review.
The tapes were filed by date and then by place. Chris discovered that in addition to the house in Encino the group taped activities in Marilyn's living quarters, a place in Sherman Oaks and another in Van Nuys.
She went first to the tapes listed for the house in Encino where she had met both Betty and Marilyn. There were three tapes for the date she visited the place.
"The bastard's did a twenty-four hour surveillance on that place the day I was there," she murmured as she slipped the first tape into the VCR.
The first few seconds of the tape were blank and then a view of a sparsely furnished room appeared. Chris found the fast forward button and ran at least 500 counts off the tape before a figure appeared on the screen.
Chris vaguely remembered having seen the woman who walked through the door. She was a statuesque red head dressed in skin tight brown leather pants and a matching vest. Beneath the vest she wore a tight pink sweater that revealed more of her full breasts than it hid. The tight pants conformed to every curve and of her narrow hips.
She stood in the doorway surveying the room, swinging a small shoulder bag and licking her full red lips again and again. The only sound audible was the soft chink of the chain attached to her bag as it moved back and forth. There was a barely audible tap on the door and the redhead turned at the sound.
A tall gray haired man entered and the woman's face lit up as she flung her arms around him and kissed him fiercely. Her ardor was reciprocated. In moments the two of them were undressed and stood naked on the pale yellow carpeting facing each other.
Chris could barely stifle a gasp as she looked at the muscular body of the man and the size of his erection. She guessed that he was well over six feet tall. His muscles rippled as he grasped the lithe, satin smooth body of the redheaded woman, whose abundant hair now cascaded almost to the floor, and lifted her from the floor and carried her to the single bed in the room.
The woman was pleading, in a soft voice, over and over, "Please make me a good girl, daddy."
The man was silent though obviously very much aroused. He lay the woman on her back on the bed and picked up a long feather that must have been on the floor, hidden from the camera. Holding the gorgeous redhead by one breast he stroked her already wet pussy with the feather. She struggled against his hold and squealed spreading her legs and thrusting her lovely body upwards.
With each thrust the man stroked her wide open cunt and moved the feather down the crease of her buttocks. She was grunting and squirming as the man continued to hold her with one hand and stroke her cunt and asshole with feather he held in the other.
Suddenly, the red head stopped all movement her eyes closed, and her mouth opened slightly. From deep in her chest she emitted a soft crooning sound that gradually grew louder until she uttered an ear splitting shriek. Her body was now jerking uncontrollably and she pulled the man down on top of her, shouting, "Fuck me now."
The coupling was quick and turbulent. Their pelvises thrust at each other so strongly that they slapped like loud hand claps. Both came suddenly the man groaning and straining. While the redhead wrapped her willowy, shapely legs around his waist and screamed with each orgasmic jerk that moved her lovely body.
As they lay panting Chris was suddenly aware of her folded hands pressing hard against her soaking wet crotch. "Jeez, I haven't done that since I was fifteen," she muttered.
Chris pushed the fast forward button again and the man, whose face she felt she recognized, and his redheaded lover jiggled off the screen. Chris suddenly realized that she was looking at action occurring in a different room.
"Did they move the camera," she wondered to her self as she watched a rather ornate bedroom fill with a half dozen nude and semi-nude men and women. At fast speed she could recognize no one. When she slowed it down she immediately spotted the dumpy little nurse who had given her the party house address and Marilyn among the crowd.
"Holy mackerel," she giggled as she watched the assembled group, consisting of all shapes and sizes, rapidly arrange themselves into a boy-girl daisy chain. The camera seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time fixed on one pasty faced, scrawny man, with wispy black hair. All of a sudden the shock of recognition.
"I know who that man is and also the one with the redhead. They're city politicians who've been in the news recently. Wow this is hot," Chris murmured to no one in particular.
She once more went to the fast forward key and moved on through the tape until she saw another change of scene. This time Chris saw her own thin, supple body and the full breasted form of Betty Morales coupling on that critical night. She shivered and fast forwarded to the end of the tape.
"I wish I could fast forward out of the situation that I got into that night," she thought as she ejected the tape and put in the next one she had selected.
"It's rather like watching a porno movie isn't it," a soft woman's voice said. Chris jumped and turned toward the voice. Betty Morales stood behind her with a worried look on her face.
"My God you scared me," Chris said sharply.
"Sorry. I came in while you were briefly watching our antics on that night," she said with a wistful smile. "Sam asked me to chaperone you in here. It's possible, but not very likely, that Hilda or Paul or Fred could show up."
"Oh! I never thought of that," Chris said.
"The reason it's unlikely is because I would guess you sent them a warning message as you tried the computer access codes."
"Huh – I just used the first few. The inventory and filing system used for the tapes came up right away," Chris replied.
Betty chuckled softly. "You're a typical computer user kiddo. The person who wrote this program knew his business. There is no way that your unauthorized access wasn't designed to alert the authorized users of the material. It's possible you even erased the more valuable stuff in the computer memory by accessing it as you did."
"I didn't realize. You mean I may have erased the drug inventory for example?"
"Yep. Or the list of folks these crooks were blackmailing – besides you and me that is," Betty said grinning.
"Why are you grinning. It's damned embarrassing for an intelligent person to let the crotch rule the head. Especially when it gets video taped," Chris said blushing once again.
"Yeah I guess it would be for a girl from Nebraska."
"I'm from Iowa and don't be so damned patronizing," Chris said hotly.
"Don't get huffy. I'm just trying to kill some time until your friend Joe gets here with the warrant. I want to get those cases open and see what's in them," Betty said. "Let's watch some more kinky video while we're waiting."
Chris shook her head. "I really don't like doing this. It's like reading other people's mail. But, I want to find the one with Marilyn and me."
"That was your night for girls was it," Betty said staring hard at Chris.
"As a matter of fact yes – yours too?"
"With me that's every night doll. Didn't your friend Lena tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"She invited me to move in with her and Stephi once the case is settled," Betty answered.
"Doesn't this stuff on the tapes bother you? What will the DEA say if this gets to them?" Chris wondered.
"Nothing. Let me tell you a little story about my career," Betty said leaning back in her chair and stretching so that her magnificent breasts stood like ripe melons beneath a soft sheer covering.
"You testing me?" Chris laughed.
"Good line. That's how things started in my office so in a way I guess I was testing," Betty said grinning.
"OK tell me about it. I'll find the tape of me with Marilyn later."
"I have been a lesbian even before I really knew about sex. Technically I guess I'm bisexual since I do get the urge to try it with men from time to time. But my luck with them, as you recently observed, has always been lousy. Women have always attracted me. I love their smell, their smooth skin, their bodies and their faces."
"I have been having sex since I was eleven and I'm thirty-two now. My first affair was with an older woman, a friend of the family, who had an important federal civil service job. I spent my summers traveling with her and ultimately went to school in DC so that we could live together."
"Through her I got my job in the bureaucracy. And, it would be to her that my activities would be reported. So you see I'm not worried about being blackmailed."
"What will she think when she finds you have cheated, is that the right word?" Chris asked.
"Kiddo you have a lot to learn. Few if any lesbian relationships are monogamous for long. Second, I am a nymph. I have sex three or four times a day – I cruise bars, I come to places that have parties, I pick up women in gay clubs – I need women like Hershey needs chocolate."
"My friend has known that almost from the start. Hell, I wore her out the third night we were together. We have always had at least a third member of our little family and I'm sure she does even now while I'm on assignment."
Chris shook her head. "I have heard of men fantasizing about women who need sex but I never heard of a lesbian nymphomaniac."
"Now you have. And here comes your lover boy and his troops I do believe."
She was right. Joe, Sam and several other officers, in and out of uniform, came striding through the forest of shelves. When Joe saw Chris sitting primly in front of the console his face lit up. He touched her hand but made no other gesture of affection.
"Did you get the warrant?" Betty asked her eyes flitting from Joe to the big blond female cop who had had the mock tussle with Lena.
"Yeah we got it Sam," said waving a crowbar in his big mitt.
"Let's get cracking then," Betty said moving to where the big blond stood quietly returning her gaze. "I'll go with officer Horton here."
Chris muttered to herself, "I figured you would." Then out loud she asked, "Can I take some of these tapes and head home?"
"You can take as many tapes as you like. I'll have an officer see you home – I'll meet you there later," Joe said smiling. "I think we can wrap this thing up with a little luck."
Chris smiled at Joe as she scooped up a half dozen video cassettes and tucked them under her arm. Walking down the aisle created by the shelving she was met by Sam Lynden.
"Chris, Joe said that you gotta go home with the guy that brought you," he said laughingly. "By the way the cardboard boxes are loaded with condoms filled with crack."
"Really? What's in the wooden boxes?"
"We don't know. I'm sure Joe will tell you when he sees you later on."