L.A. Bytes (9 page)

Martinez was already at his desk. His phone pinned under his chin, he sucked back station coffee. He waved David over, hanging up before his partner reached his desk.

“We got our warrant,” Martinez said. “You want to head over this morning? Landlord will let us in. He asked us to be there no later than ten.”

“Sure.”

The other desks fi lled up as the day shift signed in, phones were answered and keyboards tapped. The smell of bad coffee and too many bodies crammed into a small space fi lled the narrow detectives’ room. Overhead the buzz of a failing fl uorescent light did nothing to improve the color of the pale brown walls. Dirty sunlight leached through the blinds and, just outside the window, the cell tower at the rear of the building cast a thin shadow.

David went around to his own desk. He stared down at the mauve box covered with big-eyed kitten graphics on top of his keyboard and sighed. Another prank. He wondered if it was any more imaginative than the pink plastic tampons he had received last month. Or the invitations to join a gay chat line the month before.

David slipped the lid off the box and found it crammed full of fuchsia colored condoms. He rolled his chair back and
70 P.A. Brown

dumped the box and its contents into the wastebasket. Without a word he turned his monitor on. Unlike Chris, he had never grown comfortable with computers. But his reports wouldn’t write themselves, so he might as well spend the waiting time doing paperwork. Behind him he heard Lieutenant McKee talking on the phone in his offi ce. As usual his door was open.

McKee didn’t believe in shutting himself off from his men. No doubt he would be over soon to check up on him, and make sure his most troublesome detective was really well enough to be back to work.

David opened the blue three-ring binder he’d started on the Scott case. The murder book was distressingly slim. Nearly as empty as the cork-board he shared with Martinez. As the case progressed, it would be covered with the bits and pieces their investigation uncovered.

With any luck their second visit to the woman’s apartment would yield something useful.

“Nothing from the ME?”

Martinez shook his head. He tugged at his dimpled golf ball tie. “What do you think about the kid?”

David shrugged. “I’d like to keep him on our radar. He didn’t convince me he’s grieving.”

David’s phone rang. He scooped it up. It was Chris.

He kept his voice cool. “What’s up?”

Chris’s laugh was husky. “I missed you this morning. Why didn’t you wake me?”

To distract himself from his body`s reaction to Chris`s voice, David opened his email program and watched several messages download onto his computer.

Chris sighed. “What time will you be home?”

“I don’t know. I’ll try to get back early.” Out of the corner of his eye David saw McKee leave his offi ce. “Did you call about something in particular?”

L.A. BYTES
71

“Well, yeah.” David could hear the rustle of paper as Chris went through his desk. “I got a call that you wanted to talk to me.

Sergeant Sanderson phoned about fi ve minutes ago...”

“Sanderson? I don’t know any Sanderson... you sure that was the name?” A new email popped into David’s inbox. It was from Chris. “What did he say it was about?”

“He didn’t.”

“You emailing me, too?” David clicked on the email, which opened into a web link with the words “Just for you, David.

Check this out—it explains everything.” He still couldn’t think who Sanderson was. David clicked on it.

“I didn’t send you any email—”

David’s web browser opened slowly, as usual. The image that fi lled his screen resolved pixel by pixel, but long before it was done David had seen enough. “Jesus.” The blood left his face.

“What the hell...”

“David?”

“I’ll get back to you,” David muttered as he hung up. He refused to focus on the image that fi lled his monitor even as he moved his mouse to close it. It was clearly a young boy, and he was naked. The web browser ignored his commands to close.

The image changed. The next image was even more explicit.

He tried a trick Chris had taught him—Ctrl-Alt-Delete, but where that normally opened the task manager and let him close rogue applications, this time it did nothing, even when he tried the command several times. A new picture, more pornographically explicit than the last, opened up. This one featured a dark-haired naked adult male and a prepubescent male, a boy even younger than the fi rst two. A fourth image began to resolve.

David’s heart slammed into his rib cage and he felt light-headed. He hit Backspace, he even tried Start-Shutdown, but his computer refused to respond to any of his commands. Somehow he was trapped in this revolving horror.

72 P.A. Brown

His phone rang and he knew it was Chris. He snatched it up.

Chris would know how to stop this.

“Chris—”

“You ready to go, Davey?” Martinez came around his desk.

David looked up in alarm as Martinez reached his side. Too late, David fumbled for the off button on his computer. His heartbeat thundered in his ear a dozen times before the machine responded and went down.

Martinez didn’t make a sound. David couldn’t even hear him breathing. He risked one quick look over his shoulder and the sight of his partner’s gray face told him Martinez had seen more than enough.

The two men stared at each other. Harsh throat clearing directly behind the two partners broke their paralysis. David glanced back to fi nd the Lieutenant staring at him from two desks over. The detective manning the desk was also staring. Without looking at anyone in particular, David realized half the desks in the room faced his monitor. How many had seen the images?

“Davey, what the hell’s going on?” Martinez whispered.

David shook his head. But before he could open his mouth and tell him it was all a mistake, McKee was beside him.

“I’m going to have to ask you to step away from that computer, Detective Laine.” McKee’s gaze drilled into his. “You might want to consider contacting your advocate. You can call him from my offi ce.”

His advocate. Who the hell was his advocate? David’s sluggish brain responded like a drowning swimmer feeling the water close over him one last time. Oh right, Bryan Williams. He had to call Bryan Williams.

When David didn’t move, McKee snapped, “Now, Laine.”

David reached for his phone. He wasn’t going to be browbeaten by McKee before he had a chance to call Bryan. Like it or not, his boss was going to have to wait.

§ § § §

L.A. BYTES
73

David stood opposite McKee’s desk, staring over the Lieutenant’s head at the wall full of commendations and citations the lieutenant had received over the years he had headed the Detective table at Northeast.

His desk held several pictures of McKee’s wife, a forensic psychologist who often consulted with the department. The pictures included their three children.

“Shut the door, Detective,” McKee said. “And take a seat.”

David barely closed the door when there was a soft knock on it. McKee got up and took a folder from the uniformed offi cer who had knocked. He re-shut the door. Again he signaled David to sit. David did so reluctantly.

McKee fl ipped open the folder, which David realized was his jacket.

“How long have you worked in my department, Detective?”

McKee asked.

“Ten years.”

“And in those ten years have you ever had any disciplinary action?”

“No.”

McKee frowned at him. “Are you forgetting what happened fi ve years ago, then? Or last year when Detective Hernandez was killed?”

“Those matters were investigated and no charges were laid.

My jacket is clean.”

“Until now.”

“My jacket is clean,” David insisted, ignoring the dark look McKee gave him.

“Then help me understand,” McKee said. “While you’re at it, you can explain these, too.”

McKee dumped the box of condoms on the desktop.

“No, I can’t. And if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to wait for my advocate before I say anything else.”

74 P.A. Brown

“You know our forensics people will go through your computer with a fi ne-toothed comb. What are they going to fi nd, Laine?”

David wondered the same thing. Surely once he shut it down the images would be gone. He hadn’t downloaded anything.

He wished he could talk to Chris. Chris would know what had happened, including how his name had come up as the sender of that email.

“You’re not helping yourself, Laine,” McKee said. “Talk to me, and we can clear this whole thing up.”

David was saved from answering by a second knock at the door. This time it was Bryan Williams, David’s advocate—and the Northeast’s Gay and Lesbian Liaison. Bryan was a lanky man, whose red hair and freckled cheeks gave him the look of a small town bumpkin. The look hid a shrewd, calculating mind. He nodded at David, who managed a nod back. Bryan kept him out of trouble during the whole outing fi asco, when David had been in danger of being charged with conduct unbecoming because of his involvement with Chris. Bryan used his not inconsiderable clout in both the gay community and the city to clear David’s name and keep his record intact.

Without waiting to be invited, Bryan took the only other chair in the offi ce. He glanced at the condoms, then looked away. “You want to tell me what’s going on, Lieutenant? Why has David been dragged in here?”

McKee continued to skim through David’s fi le. He didn’t answer Bryan immediately. When his phone rang he snatched it up. “Yes?”

David listened to the one-sided conversation and knew it wasn’t good. McKee’s face fl attened and he stared down at the fi le folder, taking notes on a yellow legal pad.

“Yes, thank you. Send me the detailed report once you’ve fi nished it.”

He hung up and steepled his fi ngers together over the legal pad. His glance slid from David to Bryan.

L.A. BYTES
75

“Can you explain why forensics found several images of child pornography on your department issued computer, Detective Laine?”

David opened his mouth to explain, but Bryan gripped his arm.

“Don’t speak, David. Let me handle this.” He turned to McKee. “What are you charging David with?”

“At this point, nothing,” McKee said. “But Standards will be investigating our allegations, they’ll decide if charges will be laid.”

“Allegations of what? What exactly did you fi nd on his computer?”

“Images of underage children engaged in sexual activity.”

“Was David in any of these pictures?”

“Irrelevant. Mere possession—”

“Did he download the images to his hard drive?”

McKee looked puzzled and glanced at the notes he had made. “The technician merely mentions fi nding the images

‘cached,’ whatever that means. The presence of the images is doubly confounded by these.” McKee again held up the box of condoms.

Bryan leaned over and whispered for David’s ears only, “What happened? Give me the short version.”

David told Bryan how he opened the email purporting to be from Chris and found himself locked in an ever-changing web page and how he couldn’t shut it down, no matter what he tried.

He also told him about the harassing “jokes” he had faced back to the time he had come out.

“And you never mentioned any of this?” Bryan asked. “It would have helped things now if you had made a formal complaint.”

“And be labeled a troublemaker?” David said. “How long do you think I’d survive on the street with that kind of rep?”

76 P.A. Brown

“Okay, we’ll talk about that later. For now, are you’re sure Chris didn’t send the email to you?” Bryan was still whispering.

“Of course he didn’t. Neither one of us would ever look at that garbage.”

“I think I’ve heard enough of this,” Bryan said aloud. “I’m going to look into it. In the meanwhile, don’t talk to anyone unless I’m with you.” He glared at McKee. “How long until PSB

gets involved?”

“They’re already involved. They’ll set up a meeting over the next few days. Detective Laine will be told when. In the meantime,” McKee sighed, “I have no choice but to put you on administrative leave, pending the investigation.”

David’s heart sank. He had expected this, but had hoped it would be averted at the end. “My cases—”

“Will be reassigned. Go home, Detective. And don’t come back until this matter has been adjudicated. Is that clear?”

David stood up, keeping his spine stiff as he led the way toward the door. Bryan followed at his heels.

“Laine.”

David turned back.

“I don’t want to see you around here. Stay away from the station and stay away from Martinez. We’ll be in touch with you about what comes next. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

David stared straight ahead as he and Bryan strode toward the exit. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Martinez rise from his desk, but he didn’t slow down. Only when Bryan shut the outer door and dragged him toward the stairwell, did he let his shoulders sag. How could everything go so wrong, so fast?

Bryan kept him moving and within minutes he was behind the wheel of his Chevy. Bryan touched his shoulder through the open window.

L.A. BYTES
77

“Go home, David. We’ll clear this up, I swear. But for now, just go home. Talk to Chris. Maybe he has some ideas we can take to the techies.”

“It looks bad, doesn’t it?”

“Hey, the homophobes believe we all like little kids anyway.

It’s not fair and it’s never been fair,” Bryan sighed. “But I know a couple of PSB guys who are going to love this. Let’s hope we don’t get one of them adjudicating your case.”

David squeezed the steering wheel between clenched fi sts. “I want to know who the hell did this. And why.”

“That’s one thing I’ll be investigating.”

“Are they going to think Chris really sent me that stuff?”

“Some of them will want to think so.” Bryan studied David’s face. “Don’t do anything foolish. You’ll only make it worse if you try to get involved, so stay out of it.”