Sea Change

“Hardest thing in the world, I think. Guys like us,” Healy said, “are not chit-chat guys. Closed in a little, maybe.”

Healy sipped whiskey, and sat a minute as it settled in.

“And the only people we know how to talk with is the women we marry,” he said.

“I know,” Jesse said.

“Then the marriage breaks up, and you need somebody to talk with more than you ever have and she’s the only one you can’t talk with. . . . Makes for a lot of guys alone with a bottle of vodka.”

“That’s why they have shrinks,” Jesse said.

“Lot of cops don’t do shrinks.”

“I do,” Jesse said.

“Which is maybe,” Healy said, “why she’s back in the house.”

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39

J enn’s dressing room was in the back part of a trailer, the remainder of which served as a production office.

“Just like a movie star,” Jesse said.

He sat on the little built-in banquette while Jenn took off her camera makeup.

“Big production budget,” Jenn said. “This isn’t just Channel Three. This is Allied Broadcasting, which owns five other stations in big markets all across the country. New York, Chicago, L.A. This is like national.”

Jenn washed her face carefully in the small bathroom, and S E A C H A N G E

came out and dried carefully, and began to reapply her own makeup.

“Why not just leave the other makeup on?” Jesse said.

Jenn glanced at him in the mirror.

“Don’t be silly,” she said.

“Just asking,” Jesse said.

Jenn leaned very close to the mirror as she worked on her face.

“When I get through,” she said, “I have something really interesting to show you. You know what B roll is?”

“Sure, second unit. No stars or anything, just the director and a camera guy getting background stuff.”

“Second unit,” Jenn said. “I forget you worked all those years in L.A.”

“Everybody in L.A. knows second unit,” Jesse said. “Hell I can even say mise-en-scène.”

“But can you define it?” Jenn said.

“Nope. I left L.A. before I learned that part.”

Jenn put her lip gloss on and leaned back a little and looked at herself in the mirror. Then she leaned very close and looked. Then back for one more medium-range look and turned toward him.

“Check this out,” Jenn said.

She put a cassette in the built-in VCR and pressed play. It was raw film, taken on board several yachts in Paradise Harbor. Jesse watched silently. There was no dialogue.

“I was looking at some of the B roll,” Jenn said. “Marty’s 1 8 7

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

great. She wants my input on everything. And I saw something that I thought would interest you.”

“You want to say what?”

“You’ll see,” Jenn said.

Jesse watched silently. The scenes jerked from one to another without transition.

“Yo!” Jesse said.

Jenn stopped the tape and rewound it, and played it again.

“Yo,” Jesse said.

“See him?” Jenn said.

“From the Florence Horvath sex tape,” Jesse said.

“Part of the fuck sandwich,” Jenn said. “The one on top, I think.”

“And you recognized him,” Jesse said.

“I did.”

“You must have been paying closer attention to that tape than I thought,” Jesse said.

“I’m naturally observant,” Jenn said. “You recognized him, too.”

“I’m supposed to,” Jesse said. “Was this a test?”

Jenn smiled. “I guess it was. I guess I would have kind of liked it if you’d missed him and I had to point him out.”

“Glad I passed,” Jesse said.

“Well,” Jenn said after a pause, “I guess I am, too.”

“Sign of love,” Jesse said.

“Yes.”

“You know where the tape was made?” Jesse said.

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S E A C H A N G E

“Everything’s labeled,” Jenn said. “So when we get in the editing room, we have some idea of what we’re doing.”

“Clever,” Jesse said. “And the location is?”

“Sea Cloud,” Jenn said. “Yesterday. Contact Thomas Ralston.”

“Yesterday,” Jesse said.

Jenn nodded.

“We always date everything,” Jenn said.

“The sonovabitch is still here,” Jesse said.

Jenn shrugged.

“I need a copy of that tape,” Jesse said.

“Take it,” Jenn said. “I had them dupe it for you.”

“Christ,” Jesse said. “Maybe you should be chief of police.”

“What,” Jenn said. “And give up show business?”

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40

H is name was Eric Jurgen. Suitcase Simpson and Arthur Angstrom went out to the SeaCloud and got him.

“Thanks for coming in, Mr. Jurgen,” Jesse said.

“I try to obey the police,” Jurgen answered.

He spoke with a faint accent.

“Are you foreign born, Mr. Jurgen?” Jesse said.

“I am Austrian,” Jurgen said. “Is there a problem?”

“You are a crewman on the Sea Cloud, ” Jesse said.

“Yes sir.”

“Do you know Florence Horvath?”

S E A C H A N G E

Jurgen smiled. “Florence,” he said. “Yes. I am very sorry to hear that she died.”

“How did you know her?”

“She was with Mr. Darnell when I worked on the Lady Jane. ”

“With Mr. Darnell?”

“You know, like his girlfriend.”

“Didn’t Mr. Darnell have several girlfriends?” Jesse said.

Again Jurgen smiled.

“Yes sir,” Jurgen said. “Many. But Florence was . . . she was like the head girlfriend.”

“I have a copy of a videotape,” Jesse said, “which shows you and another man having simultaneous sex with Florence Horvath.”

“Oh,” Jurgen said. “Oh my. You have that tape.”