Sea Change

Jesse smiled to himself without pleasure, Or any other time I’ve seen her. Clearly she wanted to be recognized. She kept looking back at the camera as she enjoyed her double penetration, which enjoyment she was at pains to display. Jesse didn’t enjoy it much. I can’t define pornography, he thought.

But I know it when I see it, and pro or amateur, this is it.

After about two minutes’ running time, the cops began to talk. Pornography gets boring quick, Jesse thought.

“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.”

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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 a bed-5 6

S E A C H A N G E

room. Or at least a place with a bed. There was a hint of decorative brass. The room looked small. Could be a boat.

When the tape had finished, Jesse said, “Okay, Peter, you’re the evidence specialist. Take the tape and get some head shots made of the guys. May as well get one of Florence, too. It’s better than her license photo.”

“Guys at the lab will love this,” Perkins said.

“Just make sure it comes back,” Jesse said.

“You don’t think they’ll make a dupe?”

“Of course they will,” Jesse said. “But I want the original in our case folder.”

“Yessir.”

Perkins started to remove the tape from the VCR.

“Leave it,” Jesse said. “I’ll give it to you after lunch.”

“Gotta look for more clues, Jesse?”

“Chief Jesse to you, pal. Go relieve Molly on the desk. Tell her I want to see her in my office.”

Perkins saluted and the cops filed out. Jesse took the tape and went in his office. In a moment Molly came in. Jesse put the tape into the office VCR.

“You know how to run this?” Jesse said.

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll start it and leave.”

Molly nodded. Jesse punched up the tape and went out.

He closed the office door behind him and leaned on the wall near it. He smiled to himself. Porn guard.

When Molly came out she said, “That was disgusting.”

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R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“Yes,” Jesse said. “It was.”

“Did the guys like it?”

Jesse shrugged.

“They pretended to. In fact, I think they probably found it a little disgusting, too.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

“You going to get head shots made?”

“Peter Perkins is going to take care of it,” Jesse said.

Molly nodded. “Thanks for letting me watch it alone,” she said.

Jesse shrugged.

“You’re a nicer guy than most people know,” Molly said.

Jesse smiled at her. “Let’s not let that get around,” he said.

5 8

14

W hen Jesse went to meet Jenn for lunch she was finishing a long Steadicam walk-and-talk the length of the town pier with the sail-dappled harbor in the background. Jesse walked down and stopped beside Marty the producer. She picked up a pair of earphones that were hanging on the back of a fold-ing chair and handed them to Jesse. He put them on. He could hear Jenn.

“What draws them here,” she was saying. “What brings them from all over the Atlantic coast to converge here . . . in Paradise . . . for Race Week.”

The director who had been staring at the monitor yelled R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“Cut.” And as Jenn looked up at him with her hands on her hips, he yelled, “Keeper.” Jenn nodded as if to say It better be, and came up the dock toward Jesse. He applauded silently as she came. When she reached him, Jenn kissed him.

“I smell Emmy,” Jesse said.

“You smell something,” Jenn said and took his hand. “I’m sick of the Gull. Is there someplace else? Quick? Good?”

“We could walk up to Daisy’s,” Jesse said. “They bake all their own bread.”

“Let’s,” Jenn said.