RELEASE TO OBLIVION

The ride to the crime scene was, as many of them were, quiet. Alex concentrated on driving, Bobby on the file. He occasionally read aloud some point, both to provide Alex with the information and to reinforce an idea for his own mind. The club sat on the East Village’s northern boundaries, and Alex pulled into a maze of emergency vehicles.

“Deakins was right,” Alex noted as they left the SUV. “This has all the signs of a minefield. At least the press is fenced in,” she added, nodding towards a small field of lights and cameras.

Bobby tilted his head in acknowledgement. “We’ll be lucky if there’s anything left of the scene,” he muttered.

“We can always hope we caught a break,” Alex replied, but she had less hope in the statement than Bobby did.

Amazingly, though, they did catch a break, two, in fact. The first beat cops on the street were well acquainted with the club and savvy enough to recognize the potential damage to their careers. The detectives from the local station quickly id’d the two victims and were eager to hand off what they saw as a ticking time bomb. Both teams had managed to maintain the crime scene’s integrity, and thanks to their efforts, Alex and Bobby quickly discovered that the crime was not a murder suicide, but a double murder.

“Looks like he was stabbed first, then her.” Bobby was in the near trance like state where it seemed he channeled the victims and the perps. “Then she was attacked—looks like she might have been coming to try to help him—and then the killer tried to make it look like the guy killed himself.”

Alex followed Bobby’s reasoning, but pointed to some faint marks on the male victim’s wrists. “What about these? Looks like he’s been tied with ropes…recent activity in the club?”

Bobby stood up and nodded. “We need to talk with…what was her name…Torte?” He paused for a moment, and then gave Alex a surprisingly shy look. “Eames,” he said hesitantly, “you’re ok with…with us going in the club?”

Alex felt both annoyed and touched by his concern. “You’re worried about me? Hey, I’m the one who worked vice and knows this place. Maybe you should be worried about you.”

Bobby gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry,” he said. “I can’t always shut off that “Y” chromosome. You’re probably right—why don’t you go first and start the questions.”

The Surrender Club was located in a nondescript building. Its reception area could have been any slightly upscale doctor's office in New York aside from the very large, very strong, very impressive black man standing at its desk. He was dressed in a well cut suit that didn't quite hide his well defined muscles or the gun at his side. He greeted the detectives politely and quietly.

"The other detectives are interviewing the staff," he said. "Is there anything else I can do to help you?"

Alex took the lead. "You have a permit for that gun?"

"Yes, ma’am. I have it in my wallet..." The security guard didn't take offence at the question.

"That's ok--I'll take your word on it...Tell us what happened."

"I was here, at the desk. It was a fairly quiet night--Tuesdays tend to be. The gentleman had just ended his session with Lisa…" For the first time the guard's composure slipped a bit, but he continued. "He had just left...I opened the door to let him out. Lisa came down and signed out..."

"Signed out?" Bobby suddenly spoke from the corner of the room.

The guard, slightly startled, turned to Bobby. “Yes sir. All of the employees are asked to sign in and out. Ms. Torte doesn’t mind them leaving for short periods—she actually encourages them to take breaks-but she also insists on security.”

“Discretion,” Bobby said, “it’s very important to Ms. Torte…”

“Yes, detective. She knows the clients expect, and need it. She makes sure the employees are aware of that.”

“What happened after Lisa signed out,” Alex asked.

The guard looked troubled. “I asked her if she wanted me, or anyone to step out with her. She said not to bother…it’s usually a safe neighborhood…we have security cameras…but if I had insisted…” For a moment the guard was on the verge of tears. He recovered. “I heard a scream—I’m not sure if it was a man’s or woman’s voice—the door was closed, and it was distorted… I called over the intercom to the other security guys. Alena and Jorge were here in seconds, and we rushed out the door. I distinctly heard Lisa’s voice screaming “What are you doing? No! No!” Then she screamed.” The guard paused, struggling again. “When we got to the corner, they both were dead.”

“You didn’t see anyone…anything?” Alex asked.

The guard shook his head. “No, ma’am. We, we were concerned with Lisa and the gentleman…When we realized they both were dead, we tried not to move or touch anything.”

“All right,” Alex said. She thought the guard was genuinely upset, not by the disruption of the club’s business, but by Lisa’s death. “We’d like to speak with the other two guards, and with Ms. Torte. We’ll need to see a tape from that camera.”

“Of course…I don’t know if the tape will help you…I think it happened out of its range…Alena and Jorge are waiting…I’ll get them. And I’ll let Ms. Torte know you’re coming…” He turned to go, but as he reached the door he said, “Detectives, anything I can do, any test you want me to take—lie detector, anything…anything to catch who did this to Lisa…”

“You don’t think the client did it,” Alex said.

The guard paused for a moment. “No, ma’am, I don’t…for one thing, we search anyone who enters the club, employees and clients. He might have had the weapon hidden outside the club, but he certainly didn’t have it when he was here and when he left. And, well, I’m not an expert, and I suppose all people are capable of anything, but the gentleman struck me as someone who couldn’t hurt a fly. I think that was one of the reasons he came here.”

“Thank you,” Alex said.

The guard stood for a moment, and looked at the detectives. “I know the gentleman was an important man. I know that’s why there are so many police looking into this. But…Lisa was a good soul…please, just because of what she did…she didn’t deserve this…”

“We’ll remember that.” Bobby’s voice was soft but firm.

The guard nodded, and left.

Alena and Jorge were unable to add anything to the guard’s report. They were also strong, polite, and, in spite of their extremely professional air, very upset by Lisa’s death. Both were also concerned that Lisa’s murder might be ignored by the police.

“She wasn’t just a whore,” Alena said forcefully at one point in her interview. “Ms. Torte does not hire whores, and that’s not the sort of work they do.”

“You mean,” Bobby asked quietly, “what happens here
isn’t about sex?”

Alena studied him carefully, and decided that here was a cop who might be able to look beyond the obvious and to understand what the Surrender Club was actually about. “For some people it is,” she replied. “But others—they need something, and we provide it.”

In his interview, Jorge was equally protective of the club’s employees and owner. “Ms. Torte is very kind,” he said. “She takes good care of us…all of us…She knows this is difficult work, and she makes sure we…especially those who work with the clients, are ok.”

“You like Ms. Torte?” Alex said.

Jorge smiled. “I hope it’s obvious…she saved me from the streets…I’d be dead by now if it weren’t for her.”

“So, you’d do anything for her…” Alex’s voice was even, but the implication was clear.

“Like kill for her?” Jorge replied quietly. “Yes, yes I would. But I did not do this…there was no reason to. And Ms. Torte would not ask me to…she has principles and standards. She told me, told all of us, that we have to have them…in our world, and with what we do, we have to.”

Alex and Bobby sat in the reception area comparing notes. “We need to see the tape, and check with the ME,” Bobby said thoughtfully, “but I’m thinking this might have had less to do with Mr. Ericcson and more with Lisa.”

Alex nodded. “Wrong guy in wrong place at the wrong time. Angry client?”

“Maybe even boyfriend…” Bobby was deep in thought, and then roused himself. “I think it’s time we spoke to Ms. Torte…I’d like to meet this woman…”

END Part 2