Mary McDonald - No good deed

Jessie sighed and ran a hand through her hair, letting the strands settle. “Okay, but I’m warning you, they aren’t easy to look at.”

Dan’s grin faltered and he hesitated as his hand closed over the photos. With a questioning glance at Jessie, he flipped the pictures over. The first was the one of Mark seated on the floor, his knees bent and shoulders pulled forward at a painful angle. If Dan knew who it was, he didn’t let on, he just studied the photo for a minute before moving onto the second one. His eyes widened and then he shook his head, his mouth set in a hard line. “Where’d you get these?”

Jessie shrugged. “I used one of Mark’s cameras to take pictures at my niece’s recital Saturday. Remember I told you about how he had been evicted and everything was on the lawn? The camera was in with his stuff. When I picked the photos up yesterday, those two were in with the pictures of the little girls dancing.”

“You think these were taken before he…before he was arrested?” Dan rarely spoke of Mark now. There was no reason to, since the guy wasn’t always intruding in their cases, but once he had called Mark a poor bastard. It had been said with regret, like he knew something, but he had never elaborated.

Leaning over to see the photos again, she shook her head. “It makes sense. I mean, obviously, I didn’t take them, but according to the negatives, these were the last two on the roll of film.” Jessie sat back and pulled the envelope with the negatives out of her purse. “See?”

“That’s weird.” Dan skimmed through the negatives. “Maybe they cut them wrong?”

“Could be. I’m heading to a camera shop in a few minutes to see if they can tell me anything.” She stood and held her hand out. “But, even if the images were on the film before I used the camera, what are they pictures of? Who is making him do that?”

Dan handed her the pictures and she traced a finger over Mark’s pain-glazed eyes in the second photo. “Look at this, his hands are still shackled and it looks like he can’t even raise them high enough to get proper leverage.”

“It’s a stress position.” Dan rolled his chair back and stood, grabbing his jacket off the back. “I’d like to come with you, if you don’t mind.”

Jessie pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sure, but what’s a stress position?”

“Just what it sounds like. It’s a form of persuasion used by some governments to get prisoners to give up information.” Dan angled his head towards the door. “Come on. I’m curious now. Maybe someone planted those pictures in the packet somehow.”

Jessie went ahead of him down the hallway. “What if they weren’t planted?” So far, she had refused to consider the story Mark had told her after his initial arrest. That was crazy. She could only surmise that he’d been desperate to concoct something that outlandish. That was the only logical explanation.

“Wow, that’s wild.” The guy examined the negatives and pictures. “These negatives definitely came off the same roll of film. They were processed together, all the cuts on the film strips line up. They physically came from the same roll of film, and see where the film winds around the take-up spool in the camera?” He pointed to the square holes at the bottom of the negatives and continued, “Every fifth one has a tiny notch in it. The notch is on the second picture as well as the ones from the recital. I bet if I look at the camera you took the pictures with, I’ll find a small defect on one of the teeth that pulls the film through the camera.”

“I have the camera right here.” Jessie dug into her purse and handed the young man Mark’s camera. She noted his name tag. Gary.

Gary’s eyes lit up. “Cool. I’m not sure of the make, but it’s old. Very old.” He turned the camera this way and that, skimming his fingers over the textured body. “It’s in good condition too. It was probably one of the first thirty-five millimeter still cameras.” Beaming, he opened the back. “Yep, there’s a tiny flaw in one of the teeth on the wheel. See the sliver of metal sticking out?” The young man laid the strips of film out on the counter in order. “Right here.” He tapped the edges of the strips as he kept a silent count. “The notch is on every fifth negative and this negative falls exactly in sequence. These photos definitely came off the end of this roll of film.”

Jessie and Dan leaned across the counter. There was no doubt. Jessie straightened and caught Dan’s eye. Now what? He shrugged.

“Where’d you get the camera anyway?” Gary asked, then bent to get something beneath the counter.

“It’s not mine. It belongs to a…friend of mine.” Jessie ignored Dan, knowing that if she looked at him now, he would be grinning at her.

“Oh. Well, I can’t tell you how those bizarre photos got on your film, but I have another roll of film here. You could try it out and see what happens. In all likelihood, it was just some crazy glitch.”

Nodding, Jessie pulled some cash from her wallet. “I think I’ll do that. Meanwhile, would it be possible to get those two photos blown up to eight by tens?”

Gary made a face. “Sure, that’s no problem, but what in the world for?”

Dan leaned an elbow on the counter and smiled. “It’s police business. You understand.”

Gary’s eyes rounded. “Oh.” He rang up the film, his demeanor more subdued. “I’ll get right to work on those enlargements. Should be ready by tomorrow.”

Jessie smiled. “That would be great, Gary.”

Jessie picked up the enlargements the next day on her lunch hour. She waited until she was back in the office to open the envelope. Bracing herself, she sat and pulled the pictures out. The larger pictures showed more detail. Mark’s face was bathed in sweat, and his hands looked swollen in the cuffs. In the second picture, she saw the muscles in his arms bunched. He appeared thinner than she remembered, and his orange t-shirt was plastered to his body. Across the back, was a stenciled number. It was prison issue. That much was obvious. But which prison? Booted feet in the corner had camouflage pants tucked into the top. That meant military.

Dan entered, a bag in his hands. “Want a burger? I figured you wouldn’t have time to get one, so I got an extra.”

She tried to smile, but didn’t quite manage one. “Sure. That sounds good. Thanks.”

He handed her the burger and wordlessly took the pictures from her. After a long moment, he sighed. “It’s not any easier looking at them like this, is it?” Dropping the pictures on her desk, he returned to his own and began eating his lunch.

She took a deep breath. “No. Harder in fact.” As difficult as it was to look at the pictures, it was time to think logically. The pictures looked real, but where had they come from? How had they ended up in the camera? She had just happened upon Mark’s stuff tossed onto the lawn of his building. Then had happened to use the camera for the recital and happened to use the photo store near her work. How could anyone have planned an elaborate scheme to plant the photos with the prior set of chance circumstances?

Jessie unwrapped the burger. The photos of Mark had been on the end of the roll. How had a man who had been gone for months wind up on the end of a roll of pictures that should have been faces of giggling little girls wearing tutus? If it was a con, it was insanely complex. Who would go to that much trouble and why?

Dan didn’t know what Mark had told her about dreams and pictures predicting the attacks on nine-eleven. It had been hard enough telling anyone that Mark had been arrested as a terrorist; there had been no need to add lunatic to the list, but what if pictures like these were what Mark had experienced?