The True Detective

by Theodore Weesner

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “I can’t say—out here,” Vernon manages to say. “It’s personal.”

  “Vernon, I have news for you. You are so naive. Everyone is in personal trouble. Do you understand? Everyone. Trouble is what life is.” The door is closing. “I’m sorry,” Anthony is saying. “I have work to do. I’m sorry. Just go away, will you. Try to grow up.”

  The door closes, catches.

  Vernon needs a moment to turn and start away. Then he knows, as if someone else is possessing him, as if time is slipping again, that he is walking down the hall. And he seems to think that he feels better now. It was what he wanted. To ask, and to be turned down.

  CHAPTER 11

  RESEARCHER AND WRITER, PSYCHIATRIST AND PROFESSOR, recognized authority in the general field of human sexuality and in the subfield of sexual aberration, R. Marc Miller has a personal method of outlining occasions to himself, while they are happening, using brief captions that he records in his mind. This late afternoon, retreating to his home on Old Colony Cove Road, overlooking a corner of the Great Bay, he sits back and relates the day’s events onto tape cassettes to be typed by a departmental secretary. His thought is that almost everything is grist for the mill—the mill being the publication of the monographs, articles, and books which have in the past and will in the future continue to enhance his name and increase his national visibility in his chosen field.

  At the same time, he yearns privately for added degrees of recognition. His professional dream, he doesn’t mind admitting, is to publish a book that would reach an audience of the size attributed to Stephen Jay Gould or Carl Sagan. His private fantasy, he doesn’t mind admitting either, is to be retained as story consultant for a dramatic television series given to case studies in criminal sexual behavior, based on his experiences, in which offenders are traced not by a mere detective, but by a plainclothes man who is also a psychiatrist. Its title, he likes to mention to friends over dinner: The Psychcopatrist.

  Running through a sex film with two investigators from Portsmouth, he makes the following captions and mental notes to himself:

  SITUATION. Viewing and critiquing porno film with two individuals from Portsmouth Police Department. Date: Two seventeen eighty-one. Lieutenant Dulac, in charge of investigation of missing twelve-year-old Portsmouth boy. White. Sixth grader. Lives with mother, brother fifteen. Father’s whereabouts unknown. Mother works fulltime, minimum wage. Part-time Saturdays as waitress. Tenth grade education. Family rents Portsmouth apartment.

  Other individual with Lieutenant Dulac not introduced. Reticent, but observant. Keen listener.

  Film called Children in Bondage. Running time approximately sixty minutes. Color. Played through previous Saturday night state-line adult theater called The Sex Barn.

  Prime suspect in case white male, early to mid-twenties. Clean-cut in appearance. Believed to be educated. Suspect known to have viewed film Saturday afternoon, thereafter in gay bar to have articulated interest in sexual relations with boys. Age of boys not specified. Suspect believed new to gay scene. Described as extremely nervous, intense, something of a loner. Unable in homosexual encounter with patron of gay bar to function sexually, meaning unable to achieve erection or to become aroused. Highly agitated following unsuccessful, unfulfilled homosexual encounter.

  Portsmouth investigators pursuing suspicion—layman’s suspicion it should be pointed out—porno film stimulated individual to act out urges in abduction of missing Portsmouth youth in attempt to reenact scenes or story from film. Main questions to me: Does film suggest pattern of behavior or sequence of action, and/or does film reveal profile of offender in relation to alleged abduction of Portsmouth youth?

  SEX FILM. Porno film, Children in Bondage, story of two would-be children, boy and girl, who appear prepubescent but obviously shaved, needing to be eighteen or over to satisfy legal requirements, and probably about that age. All characters in film Caucasian.

  Boy and girl, seeking shelter from cloudburst, wander into dim, semirural Victorian mansion where inadvertently they observe various sex games between two adult males and one very buxom adult female (oh my), mainly sadomasochistic binding and birch rod and cat-o’-nine-tails switching of nude female’s buttocks.

  Boy and girl become aroused, in supposed youthful innocence, and begin to engage in what is portrayed as initial sexual experience. (A little something for everyone in this film, as the two are not children and not innocent.) Of course their sighs and moans soon—but not too soon—give them away and the two adult males step over to open the door and to say aha, what do we have here? and so on, continuing an undercurrent of satire in the film.

  To be sure, the so-called boy and girl are taken into the larger room where it is decided they must be punished to teach them a lesson for peeping at the door. The two are therefore stripped and bound, wrists and ankles, with the two bindings loosely tethered together to permit hands-andknees postures, for the moment, but little mobility.

  Joined by the adult female, who has been untied, who is naked but for black nylons and black garter belt, the two adult males also strip in part, to reveal their genitals, and any number of sexual activities in the general categories and themes of sadomasochism and suppressed pedophilia are carried out. Mainly, buttocks are switched and spanked, breasts and male genitals are tied with strands of leather to exaggerate presentation, followed by what is portrayed as forced oral, anal, and vaginal penetration, in all possible combinations, the main theme of the activity being the transition of degrees of pain and punishment into erotic seizure, excitement, and ecstatic climaxes.

  Film begins to conclude as adult captors become so engrossed in erotic excitement they untie their victims and beg to be bound themselves, to receive the same treatment. Boy and girl comply, of course, and when the three are tied together, they slip away, as if mischievously, to make their escape from the old mansion. Film actually concludes as the camera pans along a country road, then off the road tracing weeds to two bicycles leaning against trees, and down into the weeds where the girl is performing fellatio on the boy who says, this is great, if only we’d discovered it sooner, and the film concludes as he climaxes over her mouth and face.

  Final scene inconsistent with themes addressed throughout film, although maintaining something of the pedophilic theme of experiencing initial sexual contact. Film fairly standard of its kind, above average in production quality, and not ineffective in its erotic appeal to both a particular and general clientele.

  GENERAL DISCUSSION. Missing Portsmouth youth described as ordinary twelve-year-old with older brother who would appear to be typically dominating of the younger boy, who is believed to be the mother’s favorite in a one-parent household. No knowledge or evidence of any sexual proclivity in boy, this in response to detective’s question of the boy being subject to some form of sexual enticement by his captor.

  Portsmouth detective Dulac himself serious, interested, and polite as we discuss effects of the film. Basic layman’s questions. Could viewing of film generate sexual response? Sexual need and/or frustration? Could viewing of film generate consciously or unconsciously imitative behavior?

  Answer yes, of course, to these questions, pointing out that responses differ in all people, creating entire spectrum of possible reactions, all in likely relation to previous sexual experiences, especially in formative childhood years. In reply to specific questions, could film create desire for similar sex with a child, yes but not probable, depending on prior sexual makeup. Could film bring to mind or cause an attempt to pick up a child, answer yes, but not probable, again depending on previous sexual repertoire being triggered or not. Could film in certain individuals quote stimulate or cause forced abduction of a child unquote, answer yes, possible but not probable.

  Citing here of studies showing violent sexual behavior not necessarily a consequence of viewing similar pornographic materials, more likely pornography serving as sexual outlet, et cetera, leading to masturbation. D
etective apparently amused here, noting that his response to stimulation through photographs is to seek out wife and get her to bed, wanting to know, the old question, why sexual arousal through porn would lead to masturbation rather than sex with others. Answer that it isn’t that arousal from pornography doesn’t lead to sex with others, but that it doesn’t lead to or create an imitation of violent sexual behavior or aberrant behavior, except so far as it may occur in a person’s mind in the form of erotic fantasy.

  Detective interesting individual, polite and courteous throughout. Other questions having to do with pedophilia and homosexuality in general, wishing to affirm that male adult attracted to male children, especially prepubescent children, may not be homosexual or attracted to sadomasochism or other sexual aberrations. Discussion of general definition of pedophilia and attraction to children.

  What to look for, detective wants to know, which might indicate relationship of missing child to film, answer that only direct imitation might verify relationship, such as wrist and ankle burns, or switch marks or cuts, or anal or oral penetration, but even then these likely to be in reference to early childhood experiences.

  Finally, any predictable actions or directions or tendency to look for at this point, assuming prime suspect is harboring missing boy, answer that nothing in film would suggest a particular action which might be predictable, remarking to detective at this point more forcibly that aberrant behavior is not created by pornography, to which he replies that it does create an air of suggestion and approval, if I would accept at least that, to which I reply that as a professional researcher in the field I accept only what may be scientifically verified.

  ADDED POINTS. Discuss also in conclusion possibility of cult or religious practice possible in abduction of Portsmouth boy, replying that taking and holding of a child deprived parents of most valued possession and therefore inflicted dearest punishment, allowing kidnapper to experience feelings of satisfaction and omnipotence over parental figures. Examine photo of missing boy, with little comment to make as photo is very poor, except that prepubescent age constitutes particular syndrome for certain individuals usually having to do with successful nonthreatening sexual experiences in their own childhood.

  Portsmouth detective something of a paradox as typical police officer involved in criminal investigation. Unusually large man, six-four or six-five and two hundred fifty or sixty pounds. Wearing a wool outdoors-type shirt jacket over a shirt and tie, carrying his service revolver on left side where it may be detected under his jacket but not showing in any way. Some policemen like to show their guns, as if inadvertently, to hold their coats back with their thumbs to put their weapons on display like they’re exposing their penis, so everyone can see how powerful they are, but this officer respectful and courteous even as he is large, strong-looking type physically. Showing photograph of missing boy sensed it was like his own son missing, in the face of which he was remaining under control, because he had to be aware that poor quality of photo rendered it nearly useless, merely the blurred image of the face of an ordinary-looking preadolescent boy. All else about this man suggests him to be well-seasoned police veteran and one who is streetwise and capable of not having to take anything from anyone. Fairly open-minded, willing to accept views of experts but wanting complex issues explained in layman’s terms. There is some anger here under a smooth exterior.

  Other gentleman makes little impression through to end of seeing pair to door to say good-bye. Not introduced even, or identified in any way by name. Would guess he may not be policeman, but social worker or case study person having something to do with family or perhaps welfare agency.

  FOLLOW-UP. Case itself of general interest. Make note to discuss related issues and psychodynamics of criminal sexual behavior with this and other law enforcement persons, for the particular experience, interpretations, and preconceptions they bring in from the street.

  CHAPTER 12

  AT THE MALL, AS SCHOOL KIDS HIS AGE HAVE BEGUN TO JOIN the flow, Matt leaves to walk back downtown. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t want to be around school kids, but he doesn’t. Maybe it’s because, all at once, they seem frivolous to him. He’d like to see Vanessa, though, and for the exact reason it occurs to him, that she isn’t like that, although she makes jokes and has fun. After what happened in school, though, he wonders if he should ever look for her again or ever call her.

  Some of his problem disappears at once, as her mother answers the phone. Called from somewhere, by her tone Vanessa cancels the rest of his problem. “Matt,” she says. “What are you doing; where are you?”

  “I’m in town, just walking around,” he says.

  “You haven’t seen the paper?” she says.

  “What do you mean?” he says.

  “Today’s paper. This afternoon’s paper. You haven’t seen it, have you?”

  “No,” he says. “I guess I haven’t.”

  “You should. The whole front page practically is about your brother. And this scary guy—does he ever look weird. I’m surprised you’re even out walking around.”

  Matt doesn’t know what to say to this, then says, “What guy do you mean?”

  “This suspect,” she says. “There’s a picture of this guy—a drawing. Eric’s picture is there again, too, and so are these detectives. It’s almost the whole front page. They know everything about this guy. Almost everything. It says they think he’s here somewhere, that he comes from here, lives around here, that he drives this small gray car, he’s educated, in his early twenties—all this stuff, it is really scary. I can’t believe you haven’t seen it. What are you doing; where are you?”

  “Nothing,” Matt says. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “They haven’t asked you about this guy? It says he uses the name Anthony, which they think is false. I can’t believe they haven’t asked you about this guy, because my mother says it’s probably somebody you know. Wow—it is scary, believe me.”

  “I’ll have to read it,” Matt says.

  “Are things real heavy at home?” she says.

  “Oh, yeah, they are, but I’m not there. I mean I haven’t been there.”

  “Oh.”

  “I just been walking. Looking for my brother.”

  “Really.”

  “I was thinking about you. A lot.”

  “Well, we been talking about you—you know. Even Mrs. Sims.”

  “Oh.”

  “About your brother, you know. Mrs. Sims says she doesn’t think it looks real good. Because he didn’t take anything with him.”

  “Yeah,” Matt says, as the significance of the detail shoots once more through his mind.

  “Aren’t you scared, being out?” she says.

  “Well no,” Matt says, as fear also checks into his mind.

  “I’d be,” she says. “I am as it is.”

  “You are?”

  “Heck yes. Shouldn’t you be home? I mean, is your mother there by herself?”

  “I guess so. But I have this thing,” he adds.

  “What’s that?”

  There it is, coming up in Matt. “About you,” he says.

  “Meaning what?”

  For a moment he doesn’t say. Then he says, “Don’t you know?”

  “I don’t know,” she says.

  “Yes, you do.”

  She pauses. “Matt, listen,” she says at last. “Come on, you’ve got other things to worry about right now. Okay?”

  “God, you’re always doing that!” he says. “Always like you’re the boss or something!”

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” she says.

  “Forget it,” he says. Hesitating a second too long, he replaces the receiver.

  Hesitating a second too long a second time, he lifts the receiver back up, to have her back—only to hear the buzz which says the connection is discontinued. He hooks the receiver back into the cradle. Turning, he hits the palm of his hand upon the aluminum wall. He walks away, keeping his eyes open, holding against even a blink. Wha
t a total jerk you are, he says to himself. You are a total jerk.

  Nor does he walk to the police station, as he had planned. What for? he thinks. Lieutenant Dulac would just tell him to get lost. At least that’s what he should do, Matt thinks, walking through town. He should tell him to grow up. He should tell him he’s a total jerk, because that’s what he is, and that no one likes him or ever will, because why should they, why should anyone like anyone who is just a total nothing?

  Matt doesn’t walk to the police station, but he walks by it on his way down to the river, to the park along the water there, and he is on the end of a pier, in the brisk sea air, before the mask into which he has set his face begins to break and give way, and he takes in a gasp of air, into his throat and chest, and turns his face down not to be seen even by some passing, squawking, ignorant seagull.

  CHAPTER 13

  VERNON IS WALKING ON THE CAMPUS. HE HAS NOT RETURNED to his car. Not yet. He has circled close enough to be across the street from the parking lot, close enough to believe he can pick out the silver-gray top of his car among the several hundred others packed around it. Is the boy still alive? he wonders. Is he still lying there, still unconscious? Has no one noticed his hair under the sleeping bag? Has no one tapped on the window—opened the door? People are so stupid.

  Vernon doesn’t cross the street into the parking lot. He turns back into the campus and walks wide-eyed. There is in him now, after his seeing Anthony, an odd feeling that nothing he does will matter anymore. Is that what he wanted?

  In the library, up on the third floor, he makes his way to the men’s room, which is empty and heavily marked with gay messages. Standing at one of four or five urinals in a row, he reads marked and scratched messages. In a moment the door opens and someone walks in. The person crosses the tile floor and stands at a urinal. Vernon stands where he is, looking ahead. In another moment, Vernon realizes, the person is shifting to the urinal beside him. Vernon only stands there. All along the wall is the message: Show It Hard / Get It Sucked.