Unknown: Spread for pleasure

"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.